


Golden October Declining

by ingridmatthews



Category: Underworld - Fandom
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingridmatthews/pseuds/ingridmatthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SLASH - Nathaniel/Rigel. Long before a certain fateful night in the city, two vampires find devotion and trials of their own, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rigel

He walks into the room, still wet from the rain ... still flushed from the hunt.

It's only been a few hours since death was dealt to a lone Lycan we found curled up and snarling in the cemetery, right on the outskirts of the mansion grounds.

Smart creature. It was one of the last places we'd ever look, practically in our own backyard.

Rigel dealt the final blow. I was closer, but stood back and let him have it. I knew Selene would be furious that she'd been denied the kill and this made a small, petty, part of me glad.

We often hunt together, Rigel, Selene and I. While I love Rigel with all that I am, Selene I could live without, since Rigel's affections become ... confused ... when she is near.

But she is not here now. She is back in the dojo, firing her gun at the whitewashed walls, glaring at the invisible wolves that haunt her. The hunt never ends for her and as fond as Rigel is of her even he enjoys a rest once in a while.

I would rest all the time if I could, with Rigel writhing in my arms, his silkblack hair slipping through my fingers. Spend every moment caressing his body with trembling hands, making him cry out with pleasure all night and day if he was so inclined but ...

"This coat is ruined, I think," he says quietly, carefully draping his drenched leather overcoat over a centuries-old chair that is still younger than he is.

"I can procure one of those yellow ones for you," I jest. "What are they called again? Rain slickers? With a pair of rubber galoshes to match."

Rigel's lips quirk into a smile. "I should be quite a sight in those. The Lycans will die of laughter."

"Whatever works," I tease. I lean back and prop my feet onto our shared desk. Rigel has his coffin placed here in my room, along with all his earthly belongings, mostly for convenience as the mansion is crowded and privacy is only for the more privileged among us.

Selene has her own chamber, but I think that's because no one wants to share one with her and her extraordinary dourness. Except for our intrepid Regent ... Kraven.

And Rigel. But he's here with me and I must force her from my thoughts or we shall both become obsessed with her.

Rigel in his infatuation I, in my jealousy.

"Sit down. Rest now, after a job well done," I command and Rigel obeys, sinking into a plush armchair, leaning over to rub his beautiful face with his hands.

I rise and fetch the decanter, pouring him and myself a few ounces of blood into a delicate goblets.

Unable to help myself, I lean down and kiss the silky top of his head before handing him the blood. "Let us toast a hunt well met." I raise the goblet. "To you, my Rigel, the finest death dealer I've ever known."

He sputters a little against the glass. "You mustn't joke while I'm drinking, Nathaniel."

"I do not joke. I am, dare I say it, deadly serious"  
Soulfully, he stares up at me, a tiny fleck of blood clinging to his upper lip. How I long to lick it off for him but it is gone in an instant with a delicate touch of his tongue.

"I think others would disagree with you," he says mildly. "I can't say that I agree with you, but ... thank you for the compliment. I know you mean well." He puts the goblet down and his bright eyes meet mine. "Enough of such talk. The hunt is through and we have the rest of this night free. What would you like to do?"

What would I like to do, I muse? What wouldn't I like to do with ... to ... my Rigel, but he refuses lovemaking right after a successful hunt, claiming it might ruin his chances of ever having another.

It's some odd superstition of his, carried over from his mortal life, where he was a knight bound to some long dead Queen, winning great battles for her for little or no praise.

It was his job, that's what he claims. But I know the memory wounds him still. Once, almost a century ago, we chanced to pass the nearby ruins of this old Queen's castle and he stared at them for long minutes, his violet eyes so cold they made me shiver.

"I killed well for you, my Lady," he muttered in German beneath his breath. "Oh, how I killed for you."

He would have died for her too, or so others have told me. Instead he was sired right on the battlefield, brought to immortality by a vampire lurking amongst his Lady's enemies as he lay gasping and bleeding to death in his armor. His sire must have seen something in him, a warrior too valuable to lose to the grave, better used as a soldier in our eternal war with the Lycan filth.

I didn't hear this story from his lips. Rigel never speaks of his siring, but gossip winds its way around the mansion like blood being passed from lip to lip. I still don't know who that vampire was who gave Rigel to us, but I thank them silently, especially on nights like these where my immortality is given meaning.

I can easily live forever, if he is by my side.

"We can watch something from the laptop. There might be a good vampire movie on," I suggest, enjoying his grimace of distaste.

"Ech. The ones they make these days aren't worth even an hour of an immortal's lifetime. I only like the first ones they made. With Bela Legosi. He would have made a good death dealer," Rigel muses. "Too bad no one turned him."

I laugh. Such an absurd notion, put forth so seriously. Rigel's humor is much drier than my own, more obvious, jests. "I think the world might have begun to wonder why the fellow was making movies when he was a hundred and fifty years old, no?"

Rigel smiles. Sometimes the classic planes of his face are too sharp, too perfect, but a smile softens his features to the point where nothing is left but sweetness. "Forget watching anything. What books do you have? I know you have something hiding here that you'll read aloud to me. Come, dearest Nate, read to me."

I ponder this only for a second before pulling out my current favorite from the desk drawer. "Are you sure you'd like me to read to you"  
"Oh, yes, please. You know how much I enjoy hearing your books."

It's true. He does enjoy me reciting books to him, for like some vampires who lived their mortal lives during times when illiteracy was the rule rather than the exception, Rigel cannot read.

I have a sneaking suspicion he could be taught how to in a very short time, just as he learned how to handle complicated weaponry and his beloved cameras, but I also have surmised he enjoys this ritual of ours more, the intimate time spent together curled up with a good book.

Opening the book, I recline on the couch, making room for Rigel to cuddle close next to me. We arrange ourselves so that he is stretched out beside me, his head is on my shoulder and he watches intently as I open a new chapter, watching my face as I begin to read.

"_Here, let us stand, close by the cathedral. Here let us wait. Are we drawn by danger? Is it the knowledge of safety that draws our feet..."_

__

* * *

There is no news of any Lycans on the prowl, so we are reduced to patrolling the city night after dull night.

Rigel doesn't seem to mind walking through the unruly crowds of mortals. He carries his camera and sometimes snaps pictures of the endless pairs of teenage girls who gawk and giggle at him, their lips and eyes ringed with dusky black kohl, their hair streaked with bright stripes colored pink and green..

They often follow him and I through the streets, thinking we do not notice as if we couldn't tell they were shadowing us from a mile away. Most of the time we will simply jump to the building ledges above their heads and watch as they pass by below us, confused, or sometimes, if he is a humorous mood, Rigel will force me to stop and talk to them.

Occasionally, they ask what he does for a living and he tells them, quite plainly, he's a vampire.

Their mouths drop and then they shriek with laughter. "Vampires are so nineties, dude," this particular pair says. "Zombies are much cooler."

"We've fallen out of fashion to a cadre of rotting corpses," I mutter. "How depressing."

Rigel nods, biting his lip with mirth. "Not only must one be undead these days, but unwashed as well."

"You guys are weird," one of the girls says. She nudges her friend, who giggles. "Seriously, what are you? Where do you work? We can hang out there with you sometime, if you like."

"I don't think you'd like our work," Rigel says. "It's rather messy. And bloody."

A memory of our last kill, the Lycan we had to practically behead in order for it to stay dead, flashes before me. Rather messy and bloody, indeed.  
"Oh," the girl replies, her nose winkling. "Are you butchers?"

"You are very perceptive," I say, tugging on Rigel's sleeve, having no more patience for these little mortals. "We are butchers. Now, if you'll excuse us ..."

The whisper to each other. One girl glares at us indignantly. "Meat is MURDER!" she spits. They stalk away, arm in arm. "Murderers."

Rigel looks bewildered. I think I'm about to hurt myself from holding my laughter inside. "Meat is murder?" he wonders. "What "  
"Don't ask, Rigel," I say, pulling him into my arms for a quick kiss. "This is from ones who think zombies are 'way cooler' than us."

"But zombies like meat," he says dryly. He shrugs before strolling through the next alleyway with me. "Maybe we ishould/i strive to be more like them."

"The coven's clothing budget will lower considerably. We'll just have to rip what we have."

Rigel laughs in reply. He climbs up to a high ledge, then another and I follow until we are on a rooftop of some old building, stone gargoyles adorning its crown.

The entire city is laid out before us in glittering lights. Rigel looks over it, filled with wonder while I stare at him, awed by his beauty.

Quietly, he takes my hand and it feels warm, strange for a vampire, but not for my Rigel.

He is warmth personified. He is all the things I crave more than a Lycan's death...

More than blood.

"Let us go home," he says finally, meeting my eyes hungrily, reading the burning desire that lurks within them. "I am thirsty."

"I am too." Leaning in, I capture his lips with mine. They are so soft, the slide of his tongue against mine is warm and sweet. I feel whatever blood there is in me burn and demand possession.

He moans against my mouth and we must hurry back, lest I take him right there on some rooftop within the sight of mortals.

I pull away reluctantly. "Home. Now," I grind out, pulling him to the roof's edge.

We jump down lightly and race back to the mansion, a pair of darting wraiths holding hands through the darkness.

We run until we find ourselves back in our room, already out of our coats. Desperately, we try to remove the rest of our clothing without breaking our embrace.

I can feel the ancient blood rising in me, along with the human craving that echoes what I once was. My fangs are already sharp and showing, as sure a sign of desire as there ever was.

Rigel's eye teeth have turned as well, filling me with the pleasurable knowledge that our affliction is a shared one. Mating between vampires is a brutal event, a pair of predators fighting for dominance over the other until one submits and the other tastes blood.  
We, unlike many of our peers, trade off on our place in the mating, but tonight, Rigel is going to be mine.

All mine.

I push him down onto the couch and he hisses at me, before ripping my shirt in half, destroying it. He lunges up and bites one of my nipples, not overly hard, but hard enough to draw a droplet of blood.  
Slowly he licks at it, smearing the blood in tiny circles and I nearly fall over at the pleasure this causes. Still, vampire pride is at stake, and I pin his hands over his head and hold him there, watching intently as he tries to escape.

Snarling, he thrashes violently for a few seconds before conceding, just barely.

I look down on him in awe, watching his chest rise and fall. Eyes flashing, teeth bared, dark hair mussed he's truly the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen in five centuries of life.

Slowly, Rigel turns his head aside and bares his neck to me, its long, pale curve inviting me to lose myself forever in his submission.

By submitting so, he has enslaved me and I can't resist sinking my teeth into the throbbing pulse beneath his skin. Hot blood erupts into my mouth, drips down my chin and I drink deeply, crimson bursts exploding behind my closed eyes.

This is better than any human orgasm, even though we can feel something similar to those on occasion. This is more than that, truly a "little death", one we can relive again and again until .  
"Nathaniel," Rigel gasps desperately. My mouth is still clamped to his neck; I'm still drinking. "Too much, beloved."

Shocked, I pull away. The holes in Rigel's neck close upon release but the blue-tinged paleness of his skin, so resembling the pallor of death, remains.

Immediately, I slice my own wrist open with a small blade I always keep close for just such a purpose. I hold the bleeding vein to Rigel's mouth and he drinks delicately, until some of his color returns.

When he is finished, I kiss his forehead tenderly. "Forgive me, love. I became carried away."

"Nothing to forgive," he whispers, his lips stained bright red. "It is our way, after all. To drink until nothing is left."

"I should be better than 'our way', especially with you, Rigel."

Mournfully, he shakes his head. "No one mortal, vampire nor even Lycan can be anything other than what they are. There is no higher standard than being true to your nature. And we are killers, my Nate. Nothing more and certainly, nothing less."

His words disturb me. I lie down and press my ear to his chest, listening to the muted sounds of eternal life flowing through him. I can feel him stroking my hair, whispering sweet nonsense in Latin and German while I drift off into a fitful doze, my dreams full of blood and haze.

* * *

to be continued? you for reading.  
If anyone would like to read more, let me know. I have more ideas for this universe. 


	2. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Golden October Declining  
> Chapter II: Night"  
> by ingrid**

**"Golden October Declining  
Chapter II: Night"  
by ingrid**

****

* * *

It's barely past sunset when Selene storms into our room, a long leather coat swirling around her thin frame.

She is small, our Selene, but lithe and deadly as well. Rigel would sometimes go on in glowing detail about how well she used the slim advantages she had, how beautiful she looked while in battle until he saw the painful clenching of my jaw every time he began his rapturous odes.

He doesn't talk about her as much now. At least, not to me.

But his eyes give him away, every time. He cannot take them off of her, even though she treats him as one would a watchdog or work horse acknowledging he is present, that he is alive, but barely so.

"There has been a sighting. We'll need to move fast," she says coldly. She tosses a pistol to Rigel, who catches it in one deft movement. "It might run toward a mortal crowd, so we'll have to work close, no machine guns. Are you ready?"

Rigel nods obediently. I, on the other hand, have all sorts of remarks in mind, such as: _"Pleased to see you too, Selene. Yes, we're quite well, thank you for asking. Oh, wait ... you didn't ask. My mistake."_

But I say nothing. I merely feel along my holster belt to make sure some extra clips are still stored there, just in case, and move out behind them both.

The other members of the coven hardly spare us a glance as we leave, but I know they will be talking later, especially the females. Beautiful and young on the outside, they are nattering old women on the inside and when you have an eternity of nothing to do _but_ gossip?

Time is the one thing vampires have way too much of.

Thank the Elders for death dealing. It gives a few of us something meaningful to do and for all of Selene's less attractive traits, she is as scornful of the gossips and libertines as any soldier might be.

One the fledglings, Erika, bestows upon me a particularly sultry smile on the way out the door. "Good hunting," she whispers, leaning close, her lips brushing my ear.

I pretend not to hear her. She is one of Kraven's brats and cannot be trusted. I, like Selene, miss Viktor and his iron-clad wisdom, as well as his ancient gravity.

The decadence surrounding us now does not suit either one of us. Perhaps we have more in common than I like to think, Selene and I.

If only she loved Rigel the way I do ...

He would be happy. He would certainly live to make her happy, but happiness isn't something that's high on Selene's agenda.

I often wonder if happiness would not but make her miserable.

The city is cold tonight. Cold and wet. Yet even through the rain, I can smell something familiar.

It is the scent of Lycan filth. It makes me sick and hungry and impossibly excited all at once.

Selene brightens too. _This_ is her passion, her life, her one and only true love the hunt for Lycans.

My poor lover does not stand a chance against it. But he is excited as well, excited to be on the hunt, to be near Selene, perhaps even to be near me, although I try not to flatter myself too much on that account.

I have been disappointed too many times before. Centuries of times before with Rigel running hot and cold, sometimes years spent denying me a kind word, yet following Selene, literally to the ends of this world.

And her taking no notice of what I could only dream of.

The Lycan is getting closer or we are getting closer to him, I don't know which. Blood thrums in my ears and I can hear Rigel's heartbeat so clearly. Smell Selene's blood-sweat, her excitement and maybe she is right, maybe this is worth living an eternity for.

Our holy cause. The preservation of our race.

The preservation of ourselves.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Lycan attacks. It is fully lupine, and I can only gape in horror as it leaps up and lands fearlessly in the middle of our group, taking all of us by surprise.

A huge swipe of its clawed forepaw and Rigel is down.

It turns to do the same to Selene but she is too quick, whirling and cracking it across its ugly mouth with a well-trained kick, her movements filled with preternatural strength.

The brute doesn't fall, but its small stumble backward gives me enough time to open fire.

And shoot it I do, my heart hammering with hatred. Hatred because it touched Rigel, hatred because it won't die no matter how much silver I pump into it, hatred because I am a vampire, it is a Lycan and there can be no other way.

With a furious howl of pain, it leaps away, Selene in hot pursuit. I should follow, but I stop when I see Rigel on the ground, bleeding very heavily from an arm wound that has nearly detached the limb itself.

It is a wound that would have killed a mortal and is bad enough to damage Rigel's hunting abilities forever if he's not treated with transfusions immediately.

"Go," he says weakly, his lips white. "It's going to get away if you don't." A pause. "It might ... hurt Selene."

Yes. It might do all of the above. But, then again, it is likely Selene will kill it, wounded as it is. And Rigel will certainly be incapacitated for years, if not the rest of his immortal life, if I do not act now.

I lift him, carefully cradling his dangling arm. The fingers are already starting to decompose, one by one, and I know I am making the right choice.

Rigel disagrees. He tries again to dissuade me, his voice rising with force. "Nathaniel! You must follow Selene. That is the rule of the hunt!"

Ah, yes. The rule of the hunt. These are Lord Viktor's ironclad laws in regard to the hunting of Lycans.

_"Kill the Lycan first, tend to the wounded after."_

It is one of the death dealer's most sacred laws but such rules are incompatible with a heart that beats more for love than killing.

Ignoring Rigel's protests, I carry him back to the mansion as quickly as my immortal legs will take me. The transport we took would be faster, but hells, I can always say I left Selene the car.

Rigel is silent the entire trip. Whether this is due to the loss of blood, or to his annoyance with me, I can't tell. All I know is what my heart is telling me ...

Help him. Save him. Heal him ... now.

By the time the infirmary is reached, Rigel is unconscious. The healers take him quickly from my arms and the transfusion tubes are immediately set up. Slowly, the blood is pumped back into Rigel's inert form and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see a bit of normal color coming back into his cheeks.

Not much, but it is a start.

Exhausted, I sink into a seat by the healing table. I cannot help but watch every ounce that's poured back into him, as well as search for signs that he will recover.

Hours pass, and I feel the tug of sunrise near. I don't want to leave, but the healers are already preparing Rigel's cover and the death sleep isn't something a vampire can ignore.

I stumble to my room, having just enough strength to open my coffin and climb inside. The lid eases shut and as it does, I can hear Viktor's ancient voice inside my head.

It is sonorous ... and threatening.

_"He whoever shall so leave the hunt for any reason before the killing is done, shall be punished in such a way that he will not soon forget. No matter what or who falls before you, you will hunt until the filth is dead. Or so you shall face my wrath and the wrath of this coven ..."_

__

* * *

I am awake right at dusk. With a hiss of pain at the last lingering vestiges of sunlight creeping into the window, I force myself out the door and back to the healing chamber.

It is a windowless room in the basement and Rigel should be long uncovered. He might even be awake!

Heart pounding, I race down the stairs, only to bump into the person I last wished to see.

Kraven.

He scowls at me, then motions with a ring-clad hand for me to follow him back to his chambers. As he is the Regent, I have no choice, but in my heart, I am cursing loudly enough for the sleeping Elders to hear.

Upon entering, he sits and says "Close the door."

I obey, eyes lowered and wait silently for him to speak again.

"I heard you abandoned the hunt last night before the filth was dead. I must say, I'm rather surprised. You are the last soldier I'd ever expect to abandon his duty."

"Who told you?"

"That doesn't matter. Did you or didn't you?"

I raise my eyes from the floor. If I'm going to be condemned, damned if it will be with my head bowed. "I did, my Lord."

To my vast surprise, Kraven doesn't look angry at all. He looks rather ... bored. He stares with a blase expression at his perfectly manicured fingernails. "And why did you do that?"

"The brute was badly wounded. I felt Selene could easily handle what was left and if I did not save Rigel ..."

Kraven perks up a bit. "Rigel was with you?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"That explains a bit. Go on."

"If I did not bring Rigel back to the mansion immediately, he would have been useless as a death dealer for many years to come, perhaps even the rest of his life," I explain as forcefully as I dare. "I felt the use of his abilities to be more important to the war in the long run than two vampires chasing one dying Lycan."

Kraven returns to examining his nails. "Tell me, Nathaniel, what do you think Viktor would have done, had you told him this?"

A shiver runs through me, but I answer without hesitation. "He would have beheaded me and buried me in two separate places my head in one hole, my body in another."

An eyebrow is raised. "Really?"

"Yes, my Lord."

A smile spreads across Kraven's face. He laughs lightly. "Good thing I'm not Viktor, then, eh, Nathaniel?"

I don't know how to respond to this, so I don't.

Kraven rises, circling me slowly, his voice soft and close. "I'm not insensible to the ways of love, Nathaniel. I know you choose Rigel over the hunt, not because you felt it would be better to save a warrior for the coven's future use, but because you love him and could not bear to see him hurt. Even the silliest fledgling would know this, so let us not play games with each other."

I bow my head, preparing to be punished, possibly unto death. "I submit myself to the mercy of my Lord Kraven and may his will ..."

Kraven lays a cool finger against my lips. "Shhh. Like I said, I'm not Viktor. He was always a tad ... zealous for my tastes. The Lycans are no real threat to us anymore, you know that, even Selene knows that in her heart, but as long as there are a few lingering here and there, we must perform this charade. But that doesn't mean we have to be iuncivilized/i about this, does it?"

"Your will be done, my Lord," I reply dully. It doesn't matter what punishment he has planned, it can't be good.

Still, I would do it again. And a thousand times again, if Rigel's health and happiness were at stake.

Kraven's laughter is ever so soft. He kisses my cheek, then my lips warmly before settling back into his chair. "I think you should visit Artemis for a spell. He has a need for a death dealer to train some of the spawn that have gathered there and as it so happens, I think you are the one for the job."

Artemis. The head of the Eastern Coven wants me to train some idiot fledglings for however many years that will take and damn it to all hells, Kraven is banishing me.

Banishing me. To go years and years, centuries perhaps, without even the sight of Rigel to keep me sane.

"I'd rather you behead me," I say weakly, once I find my voice. "It would be kinder, my Lord."

Now Kraven is angered. But he merely shrugs, calling forth someone from the shadows.

It is Erika, his brat and she is smiling.

"I order you to the Eastern Coven," Kraven says, all kindness fled from his tone. "You will let the coven leader make what use he can of you. As is our way, you will not contact this coven until you are released from your service there. Erika will accompany you, to make sure you don't get lost on the way. Be gone, be fierce, hunt well. Farewell, Nathaniel, sired child of Viktor."

The dismissal is formal. Erika takes my arm and I stumble from the room, horrified, too horrified to struggle against her cruel little pulls toward the mansion's great doors away from Rigel's chamber.

Banished. I am banished to the east

Perhaps... sweet Darkness, no ... never to see Rigel again.

* * *

more to come ...

Comments, all of 'em, are very welcome.


	3. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Golden October Declining Chapter III: Journey"  
> by ingrid**

**"Golden October Declining Chapter III: Journey"  
by ingrid**

****

* * *

The ride to the east is long and miserable.

I sit on a train with Erika sitting across from me, smiling her vicious little grin the entire time. I turn to look out of the window of our private car, but since it is nighttime I can see nothing but my own wretched reflection in the glass. For the first time in my immortal life ...

I wish I were dead.

The rocking of the train seems endless. Erika's prattle is even worse, aiming to wound me with every word. I do my best to ignore her, until ...

"Do you think he'll notice?" she asks airily. "That you are gone? Rigel seems so oblivious at times, doesn't he?"

"Say what you wish about me, but don't speak his name again ... ever." I warn quietly and there must be something in my expression that makes her go silent, even if it's only for a moment or two.

"You talk very bravely for someone's who's been banished," she snaps, breaking the stillness. "It's worse than death, if you ask me."

I can't help but sigh. "In case you haven't noticed, Erika, you've been banished right along with me. Kraven didn't set a timetable for your return, did he? He merely told you to watch me and that you shall, until I am allowed back, which could be a very, _very _long time from now."

For a second, she looks confused. So confused, I almost pity her, especially when her confusion dawns into realization then ... horror. Her mouth opens, then closes again and there are blood-tears hovering in the corners of her eyes. "But why ... why would Kraven do that?"

Because she stands in the way of his pursuit of Selene, of course. But I only say: "I don't know. Perhaps you should ask him."

She has a lot to learn, this one. Let her learn it on her own.

The rest of the ride is blessedly silent. I try not to think too much, especially not of what I'm leaving behind. Instead, I close my eyes and attempt to imagine anything but Rigel's perfect face.

Try to not hear his voice telling me he will find me, will run away and be rogue with me, that he will love me as much as I love him, for eternity.

It is impossible. He is everywhere, even as every cursed turn of the wheels take me further and further way from him.

By the time the train rumbles to a stop, I am exhausted from thinking. I do eventually notice that Kraven didn't give me time to pack a few things, not even extra ammunition or a book or two. Darkness knows if I'll be able to find anything of use in this forsaken wilderness.

The platform is deserted. Erika follows me off of the train, still lost in her thoughts of Kraven's betrayal. She looks as miserable as I feel and strangely enough, this doesn't make me nearly as happy as I thought it might.

As a peace gesture, I offer her a hand down the train-car's steep metal steps, which she refuses. "I'm not as weak as you think, Death Dealer."

"Suit yourself," I shrug and let her struggle down the clumsy stairs by herself, smiling only a little at her cursing and trouble.

On the platform I see a trio of vampires waiting for us, the lead one I recognize as Lord Artemis.

Not quite an elder, yet over nine centuries old, Artemis is one of those odd vampires stuck in a time warp that ended sometime in the nineteenth century. Not just in dress and mannerisms, but in mind as well.

The isolation out here in the middle of the Romanian countryside hasn't helped much in that regard, but it's just as well if a vampire cannot deal with the present time they live in, it's better for all of us if they stay hidden.

Artemis bows his head at us, a greeting I return in kind. "Welcome, Nathaniel, dealer of death. We are honored to have you among us." Smiling, he takes Erika's hand and kisses it gallantly. "We are doubly honored to welcome you, Lady Erika. Never have we had such beauty, like the moonlight, in our poor halls."

"Whatever," Erika breathes petulantly, pulling her hand away.

I slide her a furious look. "What she means is that the honor is ours, my Lord. We bring the best wishes and good tidings of all of Ordoghaz , especially of our Regent, Lord Kraven. It is his desire that I train your death dealers in our arts, so that they may defend the coven against any Lycan threat."

Artemis chuckles. "Lycans, eh? Haven't seen one of those in a few centuries, but it's always good to be prepared. Either way, we must hurry from here to take our rest. The sun is close to rising. Follow me, please."

He doesn't lead us far. There is a cemetery near the station and he ushers us past its gates to a secluded area not visible from the surrounding roads. He points to a well-tilled spot where other vampires have obviously buried themselves against the sun many times before.

"We will dig in here and once night falls again, the castle is only an hour's ride away," he says, ushering Erika toward a mound of soft earth.

She is utterly aghast. "Excuse me? We have to _bury _ourselves? In the _dirt_?"

Artemis looks confused and I don't remember a time when I've been quite as embarrassed. With effort, I school myself to patience. "She is a fledgling, my Lord," I explain to Artemis, plastering a stiff smile on the my face. I glare at Erika, my jaws hurting from smiling so hard. "Coffins are relatively new and expensive inventions, Erika. Vampires have been burying themselves in the ground at sunrise for centuries. Quite a restful way to sleep, actually."

Artemis tries to soothe her. "This is the finest, cleanest earth, my dear. Very soft and easy to dig. Why, I'll even do it for ..."

I stop him. "No, my Lord. The fledgling must learn." I nod curtly at her. "Start digging."

Perhaps it's the faint hint of dawn in the air that stirs Erika to action or perhaps it's my not-so-subtle threat. Reluctantly, she digs, then with greater fervor until a good sized hollow is made. She's done it all wrong of course, since you must make the hole only large enough so that it can easily be covered by pulling the dirt atop yourself but with some help from Artemis, myself and the other two vampires, Erika is soon laid to rest for the night.

Politely, I shake hands with the others and set myself to digging my own bed. The earth is cool beneath my fingers, bringing back memories of the olden days during those times I was alone in the field, left to sleep beneath the soil.

Back before I met Rigel and my life changed forever.

Sighing, I lower myself down into the grave, hoping against hope that I might somehow recapture a little of the peace I knew then.

A peace that even the death sleep of a vampire denies me now.

* * *

As the sun sets the next evening, I and the others rise automatically from our homemade tombs.

Erika's long blonde hair is dotted with clumps of loose earth and she shakes her head repeatedly, looking very much like a sodden dog trying to shake off its wetness.

The dirt flies into the air and in the faces of our hosts until I finally motion to her that is enough. "We can clean up once we arrive at the coven house."

"Easy for you to say," she mutters angrily. "You hardly have any hair to worry about."

But she stops her grumbling as Aretmis' coach arrives. Yes, it's an actual horse-drawn coach, with four horses and a large ebony cabin for us to ride in.

It's rather charming in its own way. Even Erika seems momentarily mollified when Artemis helps her aboard, as chivalrously if she were royalty.

The roads, what there are of them, are worn and bumpy and soon our carriage ride turns into yet another jostling nightmare. Still, there is starlight twinkling through the trees, the air is fresh and before Erika can complain too loudly, the coven house comes into view over the last hill.

It is a ancient castle, old enough to trace its building to before I was born, which is a long time indeed. The stone walls are at least thirty feet high, cracked and covered in dark ivy.

There are turrets and a drawbridge and there's something about it that calls to the vampire in me, perhaps some genetically coded love of huge, dark palaces where I might lord over every blood-bearing creature that passes.

The cynic in me is amused at this thought. I can't help but grin as Lord Artemis touches my arm. "Does our house suit you, Death Dealer? For you seem pleased."

"I think it might," I reply politely. "Who wouldn't love to live in a castle?"

"It looks chilly," Erika murmurs, as if answering my question. "Is it heated?"

"Oh yes, my lady," Artemis replies cheerfully. "With all the firewood you can chop."

There is the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his tone and I'm pleased to sense he has guessed Erika's number already. We take a quick rumble over the drawbridge to the castle's greats doors and this time as we alight from the carriage, an abashed Erika accepts my help.

"Hope you're good with an axe," I whisper to her as she descends, her blue eyes staring up in amazement at the castle's immense towers. "It'll take lots of wood to heat this place."

"Oh, shut up," she growls back.

The doors creak open on their giant, rusted hinges. Artemis ushers us inside to the foyer, then to a great ballroom where thirty or so other vampires wait to greet us, dressed in what was once the finest of clothing a century or so ago.

They are the Coven of Sigisoara, nestled in the birthplace of Vlad Tepes, the first immortal one, the Oldest of All.

Artemis addresses the gathered. "Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome new kindred to our family." He guides us forward. "This is the Lady Erika and the great death dealer, Nathaniel, sent to us from Ordoghaz by our gracious Lord Kraven. Note that from now on, our blood is their blood."

The vampires all clap politely. I bow deeply to them, giving a sharp nudge to Erika to do the same. "Brothers and sisters," I say. "I thank you for your roof and your blood. May we hunt together in peace."

Another round of soft applause and Artemis leads us all toward a great dining table at the far end of the room, to where glasses of blood are set out, waiting.

As we walk there, Erika yanks me close and whispers in my ear. "Do you see what they're wearing?" Horrified. "Kraven didn't even tell me to pack a dress or two, that bastard."

"He didn't allow me to say goodbye to my companion," I reply curtly. "Who do you think has been wronged more?"

We take our seats to the right and left hand of Artemis himself. I busy myself in talking to him of mundane topics, anything to take my mind off of Rigel and the coven I left behind.

It becomes hard to talk when my thoughts are racing, so I try to listen instead. There's mostly chatter of the weather, the chill in the air and the worsening condition of the castle, everyday things most vampires don't bother thinking about.

But this is a poor coven and when I finally taste what's in my glass, I realize how poor they really are.

It's cattle blood. Since the ban on hunting humans, Ordoghaz has been forced to scientifically create a substitute made of cellular plasma obtained from donated blood. It's expensive but obviously worth the effort, as I force myself to choke down the sour blood of some poor cow that was slaughtered specifically for the festivities surrounding our arrival.

I dread to think what is drunk here on a daily basis.

From the nauseous look on her face, Erika has noticed as well, but she is smart enough to say nothing. Insulting the blood offered by your hosts is possibly the worst of all vampire affronts, one that can get you thrown out of a coven and into the unforgiving woods quite quickly.

As the hours pass, I want to do nothing except retire. I stand up and address the table. "My Lord Artemis, brothers and sisters, our journey has been long and tiring. I will take my leave of you this evening ..."

"Me too," Erika pipes in quickly.

"And wish you all a good rest. Tomorrow, we will speak again about our mission here."

"Nadia will lead you to your chambers," exclaims Artemis, motioning forward one of the female vampires. "I have obtained a coffin for you both. Oh, and for you, Nathaniel I have a little gift. I've heard from various sources of your love of reading. Alas, I sorrow to say we are short on books, but ..."

He hands me a small square package, wrapped in crumbling paper. "Perhaps you can write your own while you are here."

Smiling, he watches as I open it. It's an empty writing tablet, along with a fountain pen.

Such a small kindness, but I feel overwhelmed. My eyes stinging, I lean in to kiss his cheeks, one after the other. "I thank you very much, my Lord. I will certainly enjoy using it."

"I hope you will. And for you, Lady Erika," he says, turning to her. "Your gift is a full supply of firewood for your chamber, no chopping required."

"Well, that's good," she says grumpily. "Now all I need is a tailor."

Artemis laughs. "Many of your fellow ladies here are wonderful seamstresses. I'm sure they'll teach you everything you wish to know about how to work a needle and thread."

Before Erika can reply, I take her by the arm and pull her after our guide who leads us up the great staircase and into our chambers.

Once I make sure Erika is safely ensconced, I enter my own chamber and find it old but clean, the black stones that make up the floor worn from centuries of sweeping.

It's not much of a room, but that's irrelevant. This isn't my home. Home is where Rigel is and once away from him, it doesn't really make a difference where I am.

Still, it's a relief to finally settle down. But sleep is hard to come by and I know I won't be able to rest until the death slumber comes.

With a sigh, I retrieve the writing tablet from my coat pocket. The pen is quite old, but the ink is fresh. Settling into the room's lone chair, I begin to write:

_My dearest Rigel,_

_You will never read this journal, I know._

_But writing in here gives me the hope that one day, somehow, you will understand what has happened even if I'm not able to explain it to you in person._

_The choice I made was the only one I could ever have made. The fact is a simple one: you mean more to me than death dealing and if I must be punished for that, then so be it._

_Please know that I am not protesting my punishment. It was more or less a just one, even if I cannot say it was kinder than what Viktor would have handed down, had he been in charge._

_I only wish I was allowed a single word of farewell to you._

_Perhaps it was just as well, as no words of farewell would ever be enough._

_I don't know how I am going to survive without you; that too is a simple fact._

_I am too tired for flowery words, Rigel. Too sick at heart. All I ask is that you try not to think too harshly of me, try to understand that what I did was out of love of you, not out of dereliction of my duty, certainly not out of disrespect to Selene._

_I respect her enough to know in my heart that no Lycan stands a chance against her, one on one. Someday I will tell her that, I assure you._

_Goodnight, my Rigel. I pray to Darkness that wherever you are, you are content and safe. That eternity will keep you in happiness for all time._

_It's more than I can wish to hope that you might spare of a thought of me sometimes, but if you ever do, let it be in the memory that I have loved do love you more than life, immortal or otherwise._

_Soon, Rigel. I will write to you again soon._

_Goodnight, my love,_

_Nathaniel_

__

* * *

_TBC_

All comments/reviews are very welcome._  
_


	4. Fortress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Golden October Declining Chapter IV: Fortress"  
> by ingrid**

**"Golden October Declining Chapter IV: Fortress"  
by ingrid**

****

* * *

The next evening Artemis drops by unannounced soon after I awaken. "I thought you might like to take a look at our armory so you can formulate your training plan. Follow me and I'll show you what we have."

Right down to business and that's just as well. I _must_ find a way to occupy my mind or else lose what's left of it entirely.

The rooms of the castle seem infinite but soon there is an end to the labyrinth of halls. A great oak door stands before us and when Artemis opens it, I expect to find the modern tools of a death dealer; weapons like my Walther pistols or a stack of handy machine guns.

No such luck.

All I see are swords, knives and pikes made of the purest silver. Not the sharpest or sturdiest metal is silver, but the poison it represents to the Lycan race makes up for its lack of durability ... somewhat.

Still, these are weapons that require great skill honed over many years to use effectively and even then are nowhere near as efficient as a single bullet from one of my guns. Thank the Darkness there are no Lycans in the vicinity waiting to attack

Or we'd all be dead.

"Not quite what you're used to, eh?" asks Artemis apologetically. He pats me on the back. "Do what you can. Hopefully we won't have a need for any of this, but these days, one never knows."

I look at him curiously. "Is there something particular about these days I'm unaware of?"

"Not exactly, no." Noncomittedly. "Let's simply say that you don't live as long as I have without having certain ifeelings/i about things, especially in regards to danger lurking near. I've grown used to accepting these vague premonitions instead of dismissing them outright as I used to, that's all." A weary shrug. "It's better to be prepared and wrong, than clueless and woefully correct, wouldn't you say, Nathaniel?"

"Yes, I suppose I would." Reaching out, I pick up a long silver pike, remembering all the times I used them during the great battles against the Lycans some six hundred years before. It feels just as heavy and clumsy in my hand now as it did then. Training others in how to use these awkward weapons will be difficult to say the least.

"I hope the ones you've chosen for training are fond of hard work," I warn Artemis. "Because this will be the hardest effort they've ever undertaken."

He doesn't seem overly concerned. "If truth be told, they are so bored I'm sure they're pleased to do anything, no matter how strenuous. It's not very exciting out here in the country, as you might have noticed."

"I don't mind the quiet here," I lie, setting the pike down.

One of the long swords residing in a place of honor the wall catches my eye and unable to resist its shining allure, I pluck it down. Such an ornate design and I know I've seen it before. I can't place quite where. until ...

"That is the Count Von Rigel's sword," Artemis explains. "He left it in our keep after the great battle of Vitric."

Rigel's blade. Of course it is.

"Where you there?" he asks me. "Tremendous fight. The Lycans were hundreds strong and we had to dispatch them hand to hand. Quite a few fell to that blade and he was a fledgling too, if I remember correctly. I asked him if I could keep it here at Sigisoara as a reminder of his valor and he simply tossed it to me without a word. Wonderful vampire. Do you know him?"

"Yes, I do," I reply shortly, running my hands over the blade's silver inscriptions. Gothic swirls and words in ancient German, spelling out: "_Those who are dealt death shall never return it in kind._" "Rigel did very well that day."

So well that another vampire fighting alongside of him had the temerity to fall in love with him at first blood. So long ago and yet, it feels like it was yesterday, that moment when Rigel's eyes met mine over the body of a Lycan long dead.

Eventually, the silence that falls between myself and Artemis is heavy indeed.

"I will leave you to your work," says Artemis gently. He exits the room, leaving me alone with my gloomy thoughts. Maybe he sees something in my face or perhaps, he feels yet another hunch, one he's too polite to question me about further.

Either way, what does it matter? My work is cut out for me here and here I will stay until it is done.

And I will do it to the best of my ability, even if Rigel's bright sword mocks me from these walls until the end of time.

* * *

The vampires Artemis sends to me to train are fledglings in all but age.

Sired after the great purge, yet old enough to know better, I simply can't believe not a single one of them has handled a weapon before.

The first several weeks are spent stopping them from cutting each other's and their own heads off by accident. The next are passed trying to get them to perform anything resembling footwork a soldier might use in battle, watching as they trip over their own feet time and time again, landing as inelegantly as any clumsy mortal might, directly on their asses.

More than once I wish Selene were here as she would be merciless with them, in ways I cannot.

Instead, I give them chance after chance to fail, discovering to much my dismay that yes, vampires ican/i get migraine headaches as I've developed one that plagues me at the end of every session.

Slowly, very slowly, the weeks turn into months. Erika fares better than I do in some ways, taking it upon herself to teach the vampiresses of the coven more modern hairstyle and cosmetic techniques.

Treating them like giant dolls, Erika fearlessly wields pots of rouge and a pair of red-hot iron curling tongs that sets a few of her new sisters' hair on fire, their long tresses singed to the roots.

They seem to love her regardless of how many times she nearly burns them alive. In exchange for her attentions, Erika's adoring minions sew her new dresses, made mostly from tablecloths and drapes Erika shamelessly steals from the coven house, sometimes tearing them right off the windows.

It's what she's doing in my room this very night as I sit trying to compose another letter to Rigel in my journal.

_Pop, pop, pop_! go the draperies off their rungs and I don't have to look up from my writing to know what's going on.

"Erika, please leave my drapes alone."

She ignores me and continues ripping them down.

"I'm serious, Erika. I want my curtains."

"Whatever for?" she asks, picking the cloth up from the floor. "It's not like the room is going to get too sunny for your taste."

"That's irrelevant. I'd like to keep the few comforts I have."

She turns on me angrily. "And I'd like to have something to wear. If I have to be stuck in this miserable, horrible place without anything to eat besides ... besides ..."

"Rodents? You can say it, Erika, for I've been dining on them myself."

"Then how can you deny me a stupid set of curtains?" She sniffles loudly. "Such a little thing and I have nothing else and ..."

I can sense the coming on of a loud wailing session. Sighing, I stop her before the tirade can begin. "All right, take them. Only spare me the tears, please. My head hurts so badly I don't think I can take another disturbance."

"Your head hurts because you're hungry. Mine hurts as well," she says matter-of-fact, all sniffles magically disappearing. She sits herself down across from me at my desk, not caring that's she's uninvited.

"What are you writing?" she asks curiously, stretching up, trying to peer into my journal.

I snap the tablet shut, but not before a loose page flies out of it, landing in front of her. She snatches it up before I can protest and I feel my face burning as she reads.

Silently, I wait for her mockery, but it doesn't come. Instead, she reads through, then hands me back the letter and says quietly: "Rigel doesn't know how lucky he is. If I had someone who loved me half as much ..." A shrug. "When I get back to Ordoghaz, I'll have a talk with him if you'd like. He needs a good talking to."

I can't help but chuckle at such a ludicrous offer, imagining the expression on Rigel's face if such a thing ever came to pass. "Thank you, but I think I can handle it. Besides, who says we're ever going back to Ordoghaz?"

"I say it, that's who." She rises, determinedly gathering up the prized reams of cloth. "I don't plan on staying here a moment longer than I have to. I'll escape sooner rather than later and I will get back to Ordoghaz no matter what. Feel free to pine here, writing sad letters to Rigel forever if you wish. Not me. I'm going home."

With a shrug, I reopen my journal. "Good luck to you then."

"I don't need luck," she says, flouncing from the room, my drapes clutched in her arms "I have enough wits about me to get it done. Unlike certain iother/i vampires I won't mention by name. Good night, Death Dealer. Don't let the moonlight keep you awake."

She's gone before I can reply. Head throbbing relentlessly, I start a new entry.

_My darling Rigel,_

_If Erika ever returns to the coven without me, will you do me a favor?_

_Please kill her._

_Nathaniel_

__

* * *

A few nights later, I'm treated to the sight of Erika stumbling from her chamber, her mood fouler than foul.

She has a large rat in one hand, a glass in the other. She kills the creature swiftly, grumpily squeezing its blood into the glass as a mortal might pour themselves a morning cup of coffee. A single sip, then _smash_! the glass is thrown against the wall, splattering blood everywhere.

"I'm sick of this!" she cries. "I can't live like this anymore. I must get something to eat that isn't ... isn't ..." She kicks the limp corpse out of her way. "I'm going out and getting myself some real blood."

"Real blood from what?" I ask warily. "You've not lost your mind and decided to hunt humans, have you?"

Hopefully the answer won't be 'yes' as I'll be forced to snap her neck the second she utters it.

Thankfully, Erika looks at me as if I have two heads for even suggesting it. "Of course not. I'll simply go and nab one of those antelopes that are bouncing around in the forest out there."

"Antelopes?"

"You know. Those things with the horns," she explains, waggling a pair of fingers next to her forehead.

"You mean deer?" I can't help but burst into laughter. "Those are rather too swift to catch, don't you think?"

"Oh, I'm pretty fast when I want to be," she claims, cinching her dress up around her waist until its hem is above her knees. Underneath, she's wearing a pair of ridiculous looking lace-up hunting boots, probably "borrowed" from one of the male vampires. "And I'm going to catch myself a nice fat deer full of warm blood. Don't wait up for me."

I can't stop laughing. It's the best chuckle I've had in decades.

"I won't. Good hunting, death dealer to deer," I call after her, as she stomps from the castle, slamming the doors in her wake.

When I tell Artemis where she's gone, he doesn't find it nearly as amusing. "She doesn't know this forest at all. If she gets lost, we both know she's not capable of digging herself under when the sun rises."

"I'm sure her sense of _caset_ will bring her back again," I say, but in truth, doubts are starting to form._ Caset_, or the vampire homing instinct, is very strong, but we were suddenly torn away from our usual coven and she truly doesn't know how to sleep outside and ...

As the hours pass without any sign of her, the more nervous I become. "I shouldn't have let her go," I say to Artemis as we take turns pacing through the foyer. "She's my responsibility."

"Nonsense," he replies sharply. "All the vampires in this coven are my responsibility, especially the fledglings. I should have known she wouldn't be used to living as we do and should have provided her with better blood." He rubs his hands over his face. "We will have to form a search party. I will get Louis and Nadia. They have the best eyes."

"We don't have much time until sunrise," I say, my throat tight. "Two hours at most."

Artemis shakes his head. "If she dies out there, this will be a black mark on me and this coven for eternity, may Darkness help us all. I will gather the others and ..."

Before he can finish, the foyer door bursts open. It is Erika, and I must say I've never thought I'd be so glad to see her in my life.

"Where have you been?" I cry, reaching out to embrace her and shake her senseless, all at once. "You scared us witless, you foolish girl!"

She doesn't answer. I look at her closely and see that she is stark white as well as trembling violently. "What is the matter?" I ask, lifting her chin and examining her face. Her eyes are practically burning with fear. "Erika ..."

"Lycans," she whispers hoarsely, her voice filled with terror. "I saw Lycans! An entire pack of them. Oh, Nathaniel, the forest ... it's full of them!"

* * *

yep, there's more to come ...

Thanks to the reader who sent the new reviews. There will be a chapter from Rigel's POV in a couple. :D


	5. Siege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Golden October Declining Chapter V: Siege"  
> by ingrid**

**"Golden October Declining Chapter V: Siege"  
by ingrid**

****

* * *

"Didn't you hear what I said, Death Dealer?" Erika is hysterical. "Lycans! Dozens of them and they were crawling everywhere. I've never seen so many!"

"Hush, Erika, please stop talking such nonsense," I beg her, hoping that none of the other slowly gathering vampires hear such a ridiculous and terrifying claim. "You will panic the entire coven."

"They _should_ panic, damn them!" she shrieks. Without warning, her face turns a perfectly awful shade of gray and she faints in my arms.

Lightly, I pick her up and carry her to a nearby divan. Her sister vampires gather close around her, making worried noises, crying out for cool rags and a warm glass of blood.

"She is starved, my Lord," I whisper to Artemis as the females attend to her. "I fear she is hallucinating from hunger."

"Perhaps," he says, reaching out to smooth his hand over Erika's fevered brow. "Or perhaps she is telling the truth."

"My Lord ..."

"Not now," he says, letting the lone healer of the coven come forward with a rag covered in some foul smelling medicinal concoction which he drapes over Erika's forehead. "First we must attend to the fledgling. Later we will discuss what she has or has not seen."

But later doesn't come this evening, as the sun is on the verge of rising. Erika is carried off, still unconscious, to share a coffin with one of her sisters while the rest of us head to our own chambers.

A trickle of worry gnaws at me as I lay down to rest, but I push it aside. A whole _pack_ of Lycans? Ridiculous. No such amount of Lycan filth could possibly have stayed hidden from us, not from Kraven certainly, for so many centuries.

Or could it?

The death sleep takes me but I don't feel rested upon waking, especially since Artemis is already by my coffin the moment I rise holding two silver swords in his hands. "We're going patrolling now, before the others question us further. I wish to relieve all fears as soon as possible, including my own"

He hands me a sword, which I accept reluctantly. ."Artemis," I sigh. "I'll grant you Erika might have seen _one_ Lycan. Possibly, since these woods are ancient and isolated. But I tell you honestly, I haven't seen more than one or two every few years for centuries now, in the most populated areas and I've been actively _searching_ for them. But a pack of them? Dozens in one place? Impossible."

He's not convinced. "Be that as it may, I'd prefer to be sure and alive than wrong and dead. We will patrol now, as if Erika was speaking the gospel truth. Hopefully the poor child was just seeing some shadows but we must make sure."

I don't want to tell him that if such a pack truly exists, we are dead whether we believe in it or not. I might stand a chance against two, at most, three Lycans if I am very lucky but dozens, with only primitive weapons? Without a single experienced death dealer at my side?

I shudder at the thought. But I only say: "As you wish, my Lord."

We slip down the hallways, silently, and exit without alerting the rest of the coven.

The air outside is chilly and damp, making me shiver. My stomach aches as I run beside Artemis through the dark woods. I haven't eaten well in a while myself, as rats haven't been to my taste for many centuries. Perhaps never.

The night flies by us, our swords glinting in the moonlight shed by an almost full moon. I see ... sense ... nothing besides the odd owl or deer, perhaps a bat or two.

The woods are deathly still and I'm just about to declare my theory correct when Artemis stops suddenly in his tracks.

I come to a halt beside him. "My Lord?"

"Do you smell that?" Artemis says, sniffing the air tentatively.

I follow his lead and scent around. There is a musky smell in the air but it's not the smell I normally associate with a living Lycan. It remind me a little of the odor they expel as they die, but to smell the remnants of a dead Lycan ...

"It's a Lycan marking scent. The thing has sprayed here recently," Artemis says, furiously chopping aside brush with his sword until he hits the base of a huge tree.

I peer closely at it through the darkness, seeing huge gauges and claw marks from mid-trunk to roots. The smell is strong now, and certainly Lycan, but wilder, more frightening even then the scent of those I've been killing in the cities now for centuries.

Horrible smell, one that chokes me, as does the fear that's slowly dawning. "Perhaps there is one ..." I admit, my stomach dropping.

"And another," Artemis calls out. He's standing fifty yards away now, at the base of another tree. "The scent is different, but still fresh."

Soon, we are traveling in a circle, almost exactly three miles in circumference from the coven house, smelling a new scent every few dozen trees. Occasionally, it's the same brutish odor, but in all there are at least thirty different scents.

Which translates into thirty Lycans.

Sick with horror, I can only gape dumbly as we follow the scent trail, coming in the end to a complete circle around the castle.

When I find my voice, I barely recognize my own hoarse whisper. "They are surrounding the coven house."

"Yes, no doubt to launch what would have been a surprise attack, if not for Erika's discovery. Likely at the full moon they will strike." Artemis looks up at the bright circle of light hanging over us like an ax. "We have two nights until their turning. We must prepare for it."

I am incredulous. "Two nights, my Lord? If we had two hundred years we would not be prepared for a Lycan attack of this magnitude. We must inform Ordoghaz immediately and have them send help. Let us go back and call them now."

Artemis suddenly looks old in the moonlit darkness. So very old. "That will be impossible. I ... I ... am a foolish old man, my boy." Distracted. "I thought to keep the coven in peace by clinging to the old ways. But instead I've signed their death warrants."

Oh. Oh, no. He cannot mean ... "You have no means of immediate communications in the castle? No computer? No phone? Nothing?"

He shakes his head mournfully. "Nothing. I didn't want the intrusion."

I feel as if I'm going to fall down. Nauseated, I steady myself against a tree, my mind racing. "We must get someone to town then. Tonight."

"That won't work. None of my children have even seen a phone, let alone used one. Even if our messenger should escape the circle of wolves that are out here ..."

"Leave that to me," I say, dragging Artemis back to the castle, as fast as we can run.

When we arrive, I see a deathly pale Erika awake and surrounded by the entire coven, all of them jittery. No doubt they've heard the rumors, but now to tell them the truth ...

I don't bother waiting for Artemis to explain. I pull Erika up by her shoulders and say: "You were right about the Lycans. Forgive me for doubting you. Someday I will make a full apology, but tonight we have more pressing business."

She nods, her eyes huge with terror.

"Listen carefully, for this is the night your fledglinghood ends." Holding Erika's gaze, I make sure she understands iexactly/i what I'm saying. "You must run to the nearest town, not stopping for any reason. Once there, you will find some method of communication and inform Ordoghaz that Sigisoara is in immediate danger of a Lycan attack the likes we haven't seen in centuries. They must send all their death dealers, their healers Kraven himself, the moment they are able to. If not, this coven will cease to exist."

I pause. "Erika, I will not lie to you. The castle is surrounded. You will have to slip past their circle to get out of the woods alive and into the town to make that phone call." Reaching inside my coat, I retrieve one of my two Welther pistols, loaded with silver bullets. Gently, I press it into her hand. "But I have faith you can do this thing. I believe you are worthy of your blood, your coven and your sire, Kraven."

A kiss to both her cheeks where a thin sheen of blood-sweat is already starting to form. I can sense her terror is slowly turning to determination as her slim fingers tighten around the gun.

Wild, furious determination.

"Now go," I order her. "Be swift, be fierce, let all the world know the vampiress you are."

Much to my surprise, Erika only pauses to cinch her dress before she is gone, flying out the door, leaving nothing by a breeze in her wake.

I stare after her, wishing I could remember some prayers I once knew in my mortal life.

But even if I did, there's no time for them, as I turn to address the rest of the coven. "My brothers and sisters," I say. "Let us prepare. For the evening after tomorrow, we fight for our lives."

* * *

The rest of that night and the next is spent frantically trying to assess the castle's defenses.

Thirty foot walls are a plus and while Lycans can climb, they have nowhere near a vampire's skill in scaling surfaces. Ancient catapults are in various stages of working order and I tell some of the coven to start heating water in the huge rusted cauldrons that line the turrets.

A splash of boiling water might discourage them somewhat, buying us some time.

I raid the armory to its fullest extent, throwing out all the silver weapons I can find and giving them to every member of the coven. I take a few hours to teach the females various tricks; slashing and stabbing moves to the eyes, throat and soft underbelly of the filth.

I tell them to strike as if their lives depended it on it, as if their broodlings lives were depending on it tell them to feel hatred instead of fear.

For a vampire's hatred is his or hers strongest weapon, stronger than any silver, bullet or sword.

Selene has taught me that much, at least.

The males are a different matter. I remind them of their honor, of the coven's great history and of the spirit of Vlad Tepes which hangs over this place like a shroud. I have trained them for over a year and if there is any time to remember a single lesson which I have taught to them ...

Now is it.

Artemis watches this silently for a while, then turns his face to the fire. The guilt is clearly outlined on his face.

There is no time for guilt. Besides me, he's the only experienced fighter we have. Finding his old armor in the weapons room, I kneel before him and merely press the gauntlet of the suit into his hand, my meaning clearer than any words.

He nods and then, all that can be done, is done.

I have a few moments until dawn. I hesitate before pulling out my journal and scratching off one last note to Rigel.

It is doubtful he will ever find it I'm not sure I even_ want_ him to find it, but ... some whims of Fate are out of even an immortal being's control.

Taking a deep breath, I write,

_Beloved,_

_For all the centuries we've been companions, never once have I dreamed of leaving you for any reason. I made a silent vow, long ago, to always be with you no matter what physical distance may separate us._

_Unfortunately, I fear the distance keeping us apart will soon be more than physical, but know this, my only one._

_My love for you will be as constant when I am dead as it ever was in life. It is unchanging, eternal and complete._

_George Moore once said,_

_"You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough"_

_You were always enough, Rigel. Enough to make anything bearable, even the immortality that should have been a curse, but you turned into a blessing. _

_Love is greater than even us, it does not perish, it can never be destroyed._

_I love you, a thousand times I say it here, and it can never be enough, but for now, it will have to do._

_Goodnight, dear Rigel._

_Goodnight._

_Nathaniel_

Taking a bit of black ribbon, I tie the journal shut, placing it atop the creaky desk, writing "_To Rigel_" across its cover. It will probably be destroyed in the coming battle, but maybe the sentiments will remain somewhere in here, long after I am gone.

I've taken Rigel's sword down from the armory wall and tonight it will lie by my side in the coffin, waiting as I do for the creatures that want my blood.

Let them come and try to take it if they can.

I am ready.

* * *

tbc ...

Reviews are very welcome, thanks to my readers so far. Rigel's POV is coming up.


	6. Ordoghaz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. My computer blew up real good and I just got a new one. Thanks for your patience.

Sorry this chapter took so long. My computer blew up real good and I just got a new one. Thanks for your patience.

"Golden October Declining Chapter VI: Ordoghaz" by ingrid

0o0o0o

As of this sunset, Nathaniel has been away for four-hundred and thirteen days.

I know this because I've kept count with small scratches in one of his notebooks with his favorite pen. It's silver and feels strange in my hand, since I'm unfamiliar with the workings of pens.

When I was a mortal, I signed my name as an "X" with a bit of sharpened stick or feather dipped in ink, counted with scratches such as these and did no worse for it. Back then it was horses and fowl and gold coins that I counted. Now ...

It is heartaches I count, one after the other.

I didn't mean to betray Nathaniel to Kraven. Nat broke the code, that much is true, but what happens during the hunt belongs to us alone, the death dealers. We watch our own, take care of the laws ourselves, between ourselves, as we did when Viktor was in charge.

At least he used to hunt with us on occasion until his resting time came. I hardly remember the last time Kraven picked up a sword, let alone a gun.

Unfortunately, the healers have no such integrity. They heard my ravings when I was insensible and took it upon themselves to inform Kraven of Nathaniel's lapse, which led him to send Nat away, perhaps forever -- without a single word of farewell to me or anyone else.

This is what hurts the worst, I think.

It is selfish of me, I know, to want to have that moment with him. Foolish too, since what is a moment in the life of one such as myself, a being who theoretically lives forever? What is one moment except perhaps everything I'll have to live for, for all of eternity?

It's a sort of pain I'd never thought I'd feel again once my mortal life was ended.

As for Nathaniel's pain, I can hardly bear to think of it.

For all his indulgences toward me, I'm not sure he'll be willing to overlook this. Some of the crueler vampires sitting in the warm drawing room here at Ordoghaz like to remind me of how cold and dreary it is in the eastern coven, how their diet is ... less than substantial. How they have no new clothes or phones or books ...

They don't have to tell me these things, as much as it amuses them to. I know Sigisoara is a coven of hardships; know that Nathaniel doesn't deserve to be living in such a miserable place ...

Know I wish every day I'd been sent there in his place.

At least Selene has been on our side. She's angrily petitioned Kraven a dozen times over to release Nathaniel from his exile, which he has refused. Surprising, since I thought it impossible for Kraven to refuse Selene anything but he's remained steadfast much to her annoyance and my grief.

Once, I tried to persuade him to allow me to send Nat some small comforts by mail -- a book, a jacket or something -- but that too was not allowed.

"How will you address it?" he mocked. "To the Vampyre Nathaniel, at the Coven of Sigisoara? The post office will have an interesting time with that, I'd say. Bother me no more with this nonsense, Rigel. I am busy."

We've gotten things through before, I tried to argue, but was ignored.

I made the package anyway, in case Kraven has a change of heart. In it are two of Nathaniel's favorite books, a warm jacket and a box of ammunition, which I know must annoy him greatly to be without. He's always checking his belt to make sure he has enough for nothing irritates him more than the click of an empty chamber.

Or a shelf devoid of books.

The more I think, the more time that passes -- the more tempted I am to go to him. To do so would be in direct defiance of Kraven's ruling, marking myself as a rogue, a vampire without allegiances and only the knowledge that Nathaniel will gladly follow me into such a fatal place stops me from running to Sigisoara this very night.

Still, to be with him, to see him, his sweet smile -- to kiss his soft lips ...

"I know what you're thinking. Don't do it."

A comforting hand on my shoulder and I turn to see Selene examining me closely, concern creasing her smooth brow.

"You are as powerful as you are beautiful, my friend," I reply carelessly. "I've never met a clairvoyant vampire, especially one that can discern thoughts I don't even know myself yet."

"Don't lie to me, Rigel." Mildly. "You're thinking about running off again. You think it once a day about this time and while I don't blame you, it will do neither you or Nathaniel any good. We have to be patient."

"We?" I smile sadly at her. "You are very kind, Selene, to share my burden like this. Nathaniel would be surprised ... and honored," I add quickly.

Surprised because he thinks Selene doesn't care for either of us very much, but in her own quiet way, she does. Honored because Selene's care is worth having, even if my love for her is no longer any more than that of a brother for an adored sister.

Once it was something more, much more. Centuries ago, when Selene strongly reminded me of a queen whom I was bound to in knighthood -- and in love. A woman who never returned my affections and foolishly, I thought I could have yet another chance with her through Selene.

I was wrong -- in truth, Selene wasn't even what I wanted once I met Nathaniel -- but I was a stubborn mortal turned into a stubborn immortal and when you have hundreds of years to be an ass ...

Selene shrugs. "I'm not at the top of my game without you two kill hogs at my side. I had to move faster than both of you or you'd steal all my blood. Now, with just you ..."

"It's too easy?" I finished for her.

"Much too easy. Especially with you moping every night until dawn, barely paying attention anymore." Softly, she rubs my shoulder. "You didn't think I noticed that you almost shot your own foot off the other night."

She's right. I didn't think she'd noticed. "I apologize. I shouldn't be distracted like this."

"No, you shouldn't," she agrees. "That's why we have to get Nathaniel back to Ordoghaz, no matter what our fine i Regent /i says to the contrary."

Such acid in her tone. Kraven is an unlucky soul. Not only does he not have Selene's love, but utter disdain resides in its place.

I foresee bad things in the future for these two.

"I wish Nat could hear you now," I say, grasping her hand and kissing it lightly. "He'd see why I love you so."

She laughs before pulling her hand away and gently tweaking my nose between two fingers, something no man, woman or vampire has ever dared do to me, in seven centuries of life.

But she is our Selene, one who does all manner of things others don't dare.

"And his eyes would turn an even more jealous shade of green," she proclaims. "Nathaniel wishes to share your affections as much as I want to share a kill." Her tone turns serious. "Promise me, Rigel ... promise me that when he does come home you'll straighten out this little misunderstanding of his as to where your heart lies. Or I will embarrass you with tales of your lovelorn mooning ... and bad shooting."

Such threats shouldn't make me grin, but ... "I promise. He will no longer have any reason to doubt me, ever again." Easily said, since this is one vow I intend to keep. "I thank you, beloved sister, for all of your help."

She makes a dismissive gesture. "I haven't been any help at all. I can only hope that our dear Regent will eventually see the error of his ways. If I am the one to show those to him, then so be it." With that, Selene brushes a kiss against my cheek. "Go to sleep, Rigel. You are weary, and you know how much I despise a weary death dealer at my side."

"I obey you in this and all things, my Lady," I say with exaggerated formality. "Darkness forbid I miss my foot the next time."

She's not impressed. "Sleep, Rigel," she retorts. "Sleep and know that we will somehow get our Nathaniel home again."

With this, Selene leaves me alone with nothing but Nat's notebook, his pen and my thoughts.

If only I knew how to write, I think tiredly, I would write to him and tell him all these things. There's a short inner debate before I decide to climb into the coffin a bit early. When I fall asleep doesn't matter anymore, now that Nat isn't here.

Not much matters anymore now that Nathaniel isn't here.

I wish there was some way of expressing that. Maybe if I did learn how to write ...

0o0o0o

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised the only one willing to teach me the art of reading and writing is Selene.

Viktor must have instructed her at some point in these arts; one of the thousand kindnesses he's bestowed upon her since her siring.

Luckily, it gives us both something to do between hunts. As a common courtesy given to coven members wishing to improve themselves, Kraven is not allowed to interrupt our lessons. This pleases both of us for different reasons -- I, because it might one day give me a means to get a message to Nathaniel --Selene, because it annoys Kraven to no end.

It is ... what do mortals call it again? Ah, yes. A "win-win" situation.

Reading is less difficult than I imagined. When I was a mortal, literacy was only within the realm of royalty and the sainted, not meant for the rest of us, peasant and soldier alike. You could ransom a king for a book or two; a kingdom for a priest who could both read and write.

It's rather a shame how for granted these skills are taken these days but as Selene shows me the new alphabet (new, since some alphabets change every few hundred years or so), I see in what darkness I've been kept for so long. No wonder the uppermost classes wouldn't let this magic slip from their grasping fingers.

What power these symbols and sentences have!

Writing is not so easy. Nat's silver pen is clumsy in my hand and the paper slips at the worst times. More than once I grow frustrated at the ugly scrawls I make but Selene stays patient with me -- in her own, demanding way, that is.

"Slowly!" she orders, as I scrawl like a child. "Take your time. Where is your rush? I want to see every letter look the same, every time you script it."

I treat my lessons as seriously as I do death dealing, and in a few weeks, I can boast the reading of an entire book, the one about a cat wearing a large striped hat and the chaos he causes.

Selene is somewhat pleased with my progress, although, like everything else she doesn't readily show it. She rewards my efforts with even harder tasks, such as reading huge words and phrases that span nearly an entire line, in both new English and old Latin, her language of choice to read on some occasions. The fact that I only know the most ancient of German tongues with anything resembling fluency doesn't phase her -- I'm to learn everything from the ground up, so to speak, even English which I think I speak horribly.

But ... I learn. Slowly.

Time passes and it's now over five hundred days since Nathaniel's left Ordoghaz.

At first, I can write "I love you" and "I miss you" but these seem inadequate in every sense of the word. Eventually, I can write about my day, about the flowers that lay sleeping in the graveyards, about a night full of stars and how much I wish Nat were here beside me.

I continue to strive toward learning more as Selene threatens me nightly, and only half jokingly. Everything seems well until ...

My personal phone rings.

An old gift from Nathaniel, a cellular phone I only charge out of habit since no one calls me on it. The flashing number on it appears to be long-distance and my first thought is i Nathaniel /i . Nathaniel has found a way to call me and thank Darkness I can hear his voice again!

But when I pick it up, all I hear is a female voice, saying:

"Is that you, Rigel? Oh, my God, how hard it was to get through to anyone there! I practically had to have sex with the operator to get this number!"

Confused, I shake my head, afraid I haven't heard right. "Excuse me? Who is this?"

"It's Erika. You know me! Erika ... Selene's helper? Come on, Rigel. You i do /i know me, right?"

Indeed I do. Kraven's little prat, the one who led Nathaniel away in such a humiliating fashion I'm told and I'm just about to tell her exactly how well I know her when ...

"Listen, Rigel," she hisses impatiently. "There's terrible trouble at Sigisoara. A Lycan pack is going to attack and they have no weapons, no death dealers, nothing. If you and the others don't come out to save them, they're all going to die." She starts to cry then, thick sobs choking out over the line. "You have to gather everyone and bring them here right now! Nathaniel is all alone and the others are useless. He's going to be killed if you don't come!"

Lycan pack? Attack on the coven? Nathaniel ... killed? My brain starts to spin. My door opens and it's Selene, who looks at me in askance at what must be the most extraordinary expression on my face.

Unable to speak, I hand her the phone. Perhaps she can sort this out.

"Who is this?" Selene growls into the receiver. "Oh, it's you, Erika. What are you on about? Speak slowly and stop crying like a schoolgirl. What?"

She listens closely, and eventually I see the color draining from Selene's face. She no longer looks annoyed. Instead, she is concerned. Very concerned. "An entire i pack /i ? I see. And they have no weapons besides some sticks? You mean pikes. Yes, yes ... I understand they are basically defenseless. Yes ... all right, all right, yes. I'm going to hang up now. No ... Erika, you i must /i stop blubbering. Pull yourself together and go wait by the train station. No ... no, don't worry, I will get them there if you'll get off the phone and let me do it. I'm going now. No ... no ... goodbye."

She clicks the phone shut even as Erika's voice continues to squeak over the line. "We must go east, Rigel," she says, her face as pale as moonlight. "Arm yourself and meet me in Kraven's chamber in ten minutes."

I'm astonished. "But ... she couldn't be serious. An entire pack of Lycans? Attacking a coven house? That's madness. The little fool's lost her mind," I proclaim, but in my heart, there are doubts.

"Maybe. Are you willing to stake Nathaniel's life on it?" Selene snaps. "Meet me in Kraven's chamber. Bring extra ammunition."

Maybe it's the look on her face or the terse tone of her voice, but I do as she orders. Slowly, the realization hits me that if Erika i is /i telling the truth, that if Nat is facing a Lycan pack without any back-up, then ...

I grab my machine gun and run as fast as I can to Kraven's chamber.

To my surprise, he's no longer acting dismissive toward us. He looks ... frightened. "A pack of the filth? You know that's extremely hard to believe," he says to Selene. He hesitates. "Do you think it could be true?"

"It depends on what Erika considers a "pack"," Selene replies coolly. "...but even if it's only two or three, Nathaniel will have a difficult time staving them off without the proper weapons. There are no death dealers or guns at Sigisoara as far as I know. Artemis has eschewed them for hundreds of years now."

"Of course he has, the idiot," Kraven whispers beneath his breath. He sighs deeply. "We can't let such a claim go uninvestigated, even if the source is so ... unreliable." He nods at Selene. "Gather the death dealers. But leave a few here, in case this is some sort of ruse. Tell them to arm themselves as if going to war. Bring some healers and transfusion equipment as well. If it's an entire pack we face, doubtless there'll be injuries."

A flash of respect crosses Selene's face. She bows. "As you command, My Lord."

But he's too lost in thought to notice. He waves her and myself off. "Well, what are you both standing around here for gawking at me? Go!"

He doesn't have to tell us twice. We fly through the coven house, alerting all our fellows to the situation. Soon, they are gathered, death dealers and healers both, tools of their respective trades in hand.

Mind still spinning, I force myself to run on automatic for if I concentrate too hard on what Erika said -- i Nathaniel is going to be killed! /i -- I will be useless to everyone, including myself.

The coven's private train is waiting for us in the station. As we pull out and hit top speed toward the East, I try to push down the feelings of panic that are welling up inside. It feels as if the train is moving far too slowly, that every grinding turn of the wheel is sealing Nat's doom.

Everything Erika implied is starting to dawn on me at once and if weren't for my centuries of training as a soldier, I probably would go insane before we'd gone twenty kilometers.

Silently, we ride on at full throttle, the train car rocking back and forth. The other death dealers look less than convinced about some great battle being forthcoming, but they know their duty and Kraven did give the order himself. Supposedly, he's going to follow us there after making sure Ordoghaz is protected.

From what, only Darkness knows.

This ... this ... does not bode well. There is something very wrong here, I can feel it in my blood but all I can really think of is Nathaniel and his safety. Perhaps it would be better to go rogue, I think wildly. Nathaniel and I could live in peace together forever, without all this madness surrounding us.

Yes. That would be nice. I'm going to suggest that to him the moment I see him, I think, as my knuckles whiten around the handle of my weapon. We could be very happy, just me and him and perhaps a few books. I will show him what I've learned and won't he be surprised.

Perhaps I'll read to him once this whole foolish situation is straightened out.

Yes. That's what I'll do. After we leave this nightmare and never look back.

"Sigisoara," a death dealer calls out as the train huffs to a halt some hours later in an abandoned station. We pile out and Erika is there on the platform, wearing a ragged short dress and a muddy pair of man's boots.

She runs up to us, crying still, and her face. Her i face /i ...

There is an immense, bloody laceration cutting her diagonally from brow to chin, showing bone. An obvious Lycan claw mark and my blood runs cold at the sight.

She looks sick and dazed and very badly hurt. "You have to i hurry /i ," she begs hoarsely, as a healer gathers her up in his arms. "They're all going to die in there."

She doesn't have to tell us twice. Motorbikes are unloaded from the baggage car and we board them, using our innate sense of homing to find the coven house. Soon, the ancient forest is flying past; I don't even have to think very hard to avoid the rocks and trees that loom up out of nowhere in the middle of what a few backward types might call a road.

The battle calls, making my blood hot, as our bikes roar toward the castle rising in the distance.

It's there, I can smell it.

Smell the filth and the blood and the offal of our mortal enemies. There i are /i a lot of them, more than just two or three. I push the bike into higher gear, my heart pounding. Out of the dark woods, a Lycan jumps one of our riders, knocking him over, both of them ending up tangled in a snarling pile together as the rest of us keep riding.

There will be no distractions, not until we get to the main core of them.

The castle is close now and finally, we can see them, dozens of Lycans, climbing like insects up the great walls. There is a terrible noise coming from inside -- it seems the coven isn't going down without a fight.

Except now, it's a fight they can win.

I leap from my still moving bike and land astride a short wall, my machine gun already hot from firing. The fanged snarls of my fellow death dealers fill the air and when the Lycans finally turn around and see us, there is shock outlined on their ugly faces.

A hail of silver bullets fly everywhere, felling the creatures left and right. They try to get up and fight back, but it's impossible against our guns.

Soon, they are running for their lives back into the forest, with Selene and her flank in hot pursuit.

I don't follow. Instead, I force my way into the castle, kicking aside the dead bodies that block my path. I don't care if I'm breaking the rule of the hunt. I don't care about anything, except ...

Nathaniel.

I search through the dark halls until I finally see him, slumped in one of the myriad doorways, his body ravaged and bleeding heavily, a huge Lycan lying dead half atop him. From the sheer size of it, I'd say he's slain the leader of the pack, but Nat, my Nathaniel ...

He's not moving. At all.

Shoving the filth's corpse aside, I kneel and gather Nat close, gently pushing blood-soaked hair away from his closed eyes.

"Nat," I whisper. "Nathaniel, it's me, Rigel. I'm here now. All is well." I rock him slowly, always talking. He likes the sound of my voice, he's told me so many times. I press my lips to his ear, then his forehead, cheeks and eyes, my own eyes stinging with blood-tears. "Wake up and speak to me. I've missed your voice so much, missed you. You mustn't be unkind to your Rigel, for I love you so. If you love me, dear Nat, give me a sign. Anything will do. Please?"

There is a struggle for breath and then, his eyes flutter open, only for a second. "Rigel ..."

His voice is so weak, so pained, but it is more than enough to fill me with joy. Turning around, I cry out for a healer, knowing some must be nearby. Two of them come running, blood packs and transfusion wires in hand and I release Nathaniel to let them do their work.

As they hover over him working busily, I notice a bloody sword lying at his side. Bending to retrieve it, I realize this sword was once mine, so very long ago. How Nat got a hold of it, I cannot say, but feeling it in my hand brings back a living memory of war and blood and meeting Nathaniel on a battlefield many centuries before.

So light and I'm suddenly hungry for Lycan blood. For the blood of the filth who dared to come here and try to take my family -- and love -- from me.

Going to the wall, I leap down without looking. The ground springs up beneath my feet and I am running like the wind toward the battle in the distance, to help finish what was started.

So I can return to my Nathaniel before the dawn.

0o0o0o

tbc ...

So many thanks to everyone who's commented on this story so far. You make my day with them, so keep 'em coming!


	7. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nathaniel's POV_

_Nathaniel's POV_

000000

For the first time in centuries, I awake from a sleep other than death.

Seems that I've been in a true sleep, complete with a mortal-like awakening -- my mind confused, my body sore. At first, I can't remember where I am exactly or how I got there. All I know is that something violent has happened to me, if the snakelike transfusion tubes curling up from the left side of my body are any indication.

Usually, the tubes are inserted in the back for better access to the necrotic flesh of the lungs, the first tissue in a vampire to dissolve when injured. Once that's healed the rest will follow, but I guess I've been hurt badly enough for them not to care where they stuck them in.

It's very quiet in the room. I can hear my own ragged breathing, the swish of blood flowing through the infused arteries in my neck and chest. My eyes hurt so I close them and try to remember what has happened. I was ... fighting, I think, except that doesn't help because it seems as though I am always fighting.

There was a Lycan. Again, there are always Lycans, but this time I had no gun, I only had a sword and the Lycan was so powerful. I was alone, except for ...

That sword. Rigel's sword, that's all I had because I am in Sigisoara and if I am in Sigisoara and still alive with transfusion equipment in me then that must mean Erika got through. And if she got through, then ...

My eyes fly open. I turn my head and ...

"Hello," says Rigel, sitting in a chair next to the healing table, looking so much like an angel, I immediately think that this medical machinery surrounding me is an illusion, for I must be dead.

Heaven's made a mistake as well because a creature like myself doesn't belong in such a holy place by any stretch of the imagination and yet, here I am, looking into Heaven's perfect face.

But it's not an illusion I discover, as Rigel's smooth hand caresses my forehead. "You worried me, beloved" Softly, and his eyes are overbright with a touch of crimson wetness at their corners. "But all is well. We are well and will remain so, I promise you, my Nathaniel."

"Yes," I rasp. I fumble to reach for his hand, bringing it to my lips in a fervent kiss. "I will never be unwell again, not if you are near."

This makes him smile. He leans down to kiss me on the lips, so gently, as if I might break. How wonderful, his warm mouth against mine and I suddenly feel as strong as ten of my kind. I try to rise from the table, to take in more of him, to kiss him until we are nothing but kisses, but the damned tubes are in the way.

I'm just about to tear them out when Rigel pulls away from me, shaking his head. "Patience, Nat," he warns, ignoring my groan at the loss of his touch. "You came very close to dying. You need to heal."

"I'm much better," I insist. Lying, of course, but if I get another kiss out of it ... "I'm fit enough to kill a dozen Lycans. Bring them here and I'll show you."

"How about I read to you instead?" Grinning indulgently, Rigel sits down and pulls a book out from his jacket.

"I'd rather kiss you again," I say, but in truth, just that little bit of activity has tired me immensely. It seems that Rigel is right, I must be patient, at least for a little while longer. "All right, read away then," I grumble morosely, before blinking with surprise. "Wait. When did you learn how to read?"

Embarrassed, he shrugs. "It was something to do while you were away. I thought it might amuse you to hear me read to you once we were no longer apart."

Once we were no longer apart ...

"Did you really think we'd see each other again, Rigel?" I ask, my voice hoarse with emotion. "Did you, love? Because I had my doubts."

"Oh yes, I was quite positive we'd be together again," he replies, regarding me warmly. "For I would have made sure of it one way or another." He comes close, his lips brushing in whispers against my ear. "Never fear, my Nathaniel. You and I are bound by our hearts and that is something neither mortal, nor vampire, nor Lycan, nor death itself can keep apart. Haven't you taught me as much?"

My throat tightens and I have to close my eyes against the tears that threaten. Unable to speak, I merely nod, listening as he opens the book and begins to read. "This book is entitled, I think, "_To Rigel_" for that is what was written on the cover," he says. I hear the crisp sound of a page turning. "_My dearest Rigel_," he begins and my eyes open in horror.

"Where did you get that?" I gasp, seeing my journal in his hand.

Rigel looks at me innocently. "I found it upstairs in one of the chambers when we searched the coven house making sure no Lycans were hiding about. It was sitting on a table, right out in the open."

My face flushes, bright and hot. "You weren't supposed to read that," I mutter, wishing I could sink through the table, straight into the ground.

"No?" he asks teasingly. "But it's addressed to me. The note tied to it said "_To Rigel_" as plain as sunlight. Or is there another Rigel you are writing love letters to, my Nat? If so, I'm afraid there's going to be a second battle on these grounds."

My cheeks still burn and I don't remember the last time I've blushed so miserably."You know there's not. What I meant is that you were never meant to see those letters. They are ... they are ... foolish ramblings, that's all, Rigel. I was missing you very much and had nothing to do, so I scribbled all that nonsense. Besides, I thought I'd be long dead before you ever saw it."

"And yet, Fate had other plans. Now will you be quiet so I can read to you or will you continue to sulk? For I can come back later ..."

"Don't leave," I say immediately, terrified at the thought of him going anywhere. "Read anything you like, just don't leave me."

"Never, love." Softly, and the page rustles again. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. _"My dearest Rigel. You will never read this journal, I know. But writing in here gives me the hope that one day, somehow, you will understand what has happened even if I'm not able to explain it to you in person."_

His words are slow, broken in some places, but it's the sweetest sound I can ever remember hearing. Exhaustion creeps up upon me and as much as I want to stay awake, I feel myself sinking back down into sleep, the most serene one I've known in a very long time.

Better than the wonder of life, better than the peace of death, is the knowledge Rigel is finally at my side again.

000000

I awake the next evening, very early, much refreshed. I'm still attached to these infernal tubes but there aren't as many as there were before so I take that as a good sign.

The chair beside my pallet is empty. I can't help the sad sigh that escapes but I know that all the death dealers are probably very busy combing the woods for stray Lycans, Rigel included, especially now that I am out of danger of dying.

Still, it's very dull lying here doing nothing. I'm about to try and sit up when the infirmary door opens.

"There you are, lazybones. Laying about for days and days and you call me indolent." Smiling ear to ear, Erika flounces over to my bed, lightly punching my good arm with mock annoyance. "I thought I was going to have to start stealing the rest of your curtains to wake you up."

"The rest of them? There are some left?" I jest, catching Erika's arm and pulling her down into an embrace. I kiss her forehead and both her soft cheeks. "How is my brave girl -- my swift one? The deer are trembling in fear, or so I hear."

Giggling, Erika climbs in beside me and snuggles against my chest, her light warmth comforting.. "And so are the Lycans. I shot one of them, you know." She turns her finger into the barrel of a gun and points it at an imaginary Lycan. "He got in my way as I was running and was just about to eat me when I pulled out your gun and blam, blam, blam! He was sorry he bothered me, the ugly creature," she sniffs. "I told you that nothing gets in my way, not even a smelly old wolf-thing. You didn't tell me how badly they stink, Death Dealer. Phew-ew."

"They are rather odorous," I admit. Lifting her chin, I examine her face, running my finger down a long red claw mark that mars it from brow to jaw. "Is that when you got this?"

Erika shrugs. "Yes, but who is around to speak of it? Not him, that's for certain." A long sigh comes from somewhere deep within her. Her lower lip trembles. "Is it horrible, Nathaniel? The healers tell me the scar will go away soon enough but the cut was so deep and ..." A sad pause. "I'm ugly now, aren't I?"

I hug her close. "Erika, I am being honest when I say you've never looked more beautiful."

At this, she brightens considerably. "Really?" she squeaks happily. Suddenly, she's back to her glorious, gossiping self. She whispers into my ear: "I've seen Rigel in the halls. I didn't know he was capable of such smiles. Did you two have a little fun in here when the healers weren't looking?"

I pretend to be very, very shocked. "Erika! What kind of a question is that?"

She's not perturbed. "Don't be such a prude, Natty. You and Rigel have never been shy about the things you do together." Sitting up, Erika snatches a fresh bag of blood from the healer's cart. She inserts a clean tube into it and starts to sip, much like a mortal with a can of soda, before settling back down next to me. "At Ordoghaz, you practically woke the dead with your matings. Why, once I thought the very walls would ..."

I pinch her arm. "That's enough, big mouth. And if you call me 'Natty' one more time ..."

Her lips curve into a smile around the tube. "Did you hear the other news? Kraven arrived last night and Selene told him about my trip through the forest. She suggested that I be allowed to return to Ordoghaz. And I think he's agreed."

She sounds ecstatic and I can't help but smile for her. "That's wonderful, Erika. You deserve such a reward and more. You never should have been sent here in the first place. I'm sorry my punishment has burdened you so."

"What?" she splutters, making a face at me. "Hush, silly. All's well that ends well, isn't it? Besides, you'll be coming home too, I'm sure, and then you and Rigel can yell down the walls all you like."

Lightly, I stroke her golden hair. I don't tell her that the odds are I won't be returning with her. The odds are more likely that I will never see her again. "When is the coven leaving with Kraven?"

"Tomorrow night, or so I hear. So you'd better pack your things," Erika says, sitting up and tossing the empty bag over her shoulder. Rising from my arms, she gives me a quick peck on the forehead. "Get your rest, Death Dealer. At sunset, we'll finally be free."

Tomorrow. The word pierces my heart like a sword.

"One last favor," I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. My mouth has turned so dry it hurts to form words. "Could you please send Artemis here when you get a chance? I wish to speak with him."

The color drains from Erika's face. "Oh ... " she says, biting her lip. "You didn't hear?"

Oh, Darkness, the look on her face is ... "Hear what?"

"Artemis didn't make it," Erika says quietly. "He was killed by a Lycan during the siege. I'm ... I'm so sorry, Nathaniel. I thought you already knew."

It feels as though a brick wall has fallen on me, crushing me into pieces. "I didn't know, but that's not your fault." I close my eyes against the choking pain. "I think I need to sleep now," I lie, my heart and mind racing impossibly fast. "Thank you for everything, my friend, and goodnight"

"Goodnight, Nathaniel," Erika whispers, as she slips from the room. "Don't fret, for tomorrow, all will be well."

Little does she know that tomorrow everything will be far from well. Tomorrow is the night my life certainly ends, as that is the night Kraven will take the coven, including Rigel, back to Ordoghaz, leaving me here without even Artemis' company to comfort me.

Breathing hard, I sit up and one by one, remove the transfusion tubes from my body. It hurts, horribly, but I have no choice.

I have to get to Rigel. Now. Before we have no time left to be together.

000000

It is slow going, making my way out of the healing chamber and into the main corridors. Luckily, a clean outfit has been left in the infirmary against my rising and except for shoes, I am all right.

At least I think I am until I come upon a small knot of death dealers who look at me with horrified eyes.

One of them reaches for me as if to help, but I shrug him off. "I need to find Rigel. Where is he?"

"I'll fetch him," another says and is off like a flash of light. Rigel returns with her a moment later, radiating fury from every pore.

"Thank you," he says to them shortly before picking me up in his arms and carrying me back toward the infirmary, ignoring my pleading protests.

"How dare you endanger yourself like this," he growls. "Don't you know that when you hurt yourself, you hurt me as well?"

"Rigel, please listen," I gasp. "I know the coven is leaving tomorrow and I must be with you one more time. I have nothing else to live for, please don't take me back to the healers. Come to my chamber and be with me, just one more time."

The hard expression on his face softens. "Nat. You must try to have a little faith in me. Do you think I'd leave you here alone?"

"You won't have a choice. Kraven isn't going to budge," I insist. "Beloved, I am begging you. Be with me, one last time."

Maybe it's the words or the brokenhearted sound of my voice, but Rigel hesitates at the infirmary's door.

Desperately, I pull him into a kiss, trying to convince him that way, kissing him again and again until he turns around and heads to the upstairs chambers -- into my room, where he sets me down on the small pallet where I used to lay and pour my heart and soul out to him in words I never thought he'd see.

My entire body is trembling, I desire him so badly. Lighting a candle first, Rigel undresses both of us slowly, driving me insane. When he finally lies down beside me, skin to skin, I am so hungry for him I could care less about the pain of my wounds or the drops of blood seeping from them, staining our bed in circles of dark crimson.

"Gently," he whispers as I moan his name. "If we are to do this, it will be the mortal way for now and we will save our way for when you are fully recovered."

The mortal way -- the vampire way -- I could care less as long as I can have him again. This night will have to last me a lifetime, so however I can have him, that's how it will be.

His kisses are too soft at first, too careful, but soon become hungrier with my encouragement. I can feel how much he's missed me, almost as much as I've missed him. I cover his neck with soft bites, knowing how hard he tries to maintain his composure even when I reach between his legs and stroke lightly, just enough to enflame, in echoes of the mortal dance of passion we once knew so very long ago.

Rigel moans my name, then again more loudly, and if this tease is what he wants, then this is what he'll get.

With all the strength I can muster, I roll him over beneath me, ignoring the smears of blood that smatter his chest ... his stomach ... his thighs.

"Do you remember this, beloved?" I whisper against his cock, which is hot and hard against my lips. "So long ago, how this felt? Almost as good as our way, wasn't it?" A long lick up the shaft and his eyes are huge, shimmering turquoise in the candlelight. "Do you remember?"

"Nathaniel ... please ... my love."

Hoarsely, and I feel a vicious surge of triumph as I take him in all the way down, deep into my throat. Having no real need to breathe is an advantage I'd never thought would come in handy but it does, especially as Rigel arches and cries out, held captive by my mouth.

So good, so hot against my tongue and I don't pay attention to his warning when he climaxes, letting the copper taste of blood and come fill my throat in raging spurts without warning. Licking him clean, I want more, so much more but Rigel's no longer in any mood to play nicely.

A flash of white fangs and I'm pinned down beneath him, his breath hot against the ragged pulse threading through my veins.

"You destroy me," he growls. "You are the death of me again and again but now, my only love, I will be the death of you."

"Yes, please, for I belong to you. I am yours, Rigel, " I say, barely able to form the words. "Please take me, for I am no one's but yours. Always ... for eternity."

So much for the mortal way as he sinks his teeth deeply into my throat. I let go of all pretense at struggle and this... oh, Darkness ... this is death in all its glorious beauty. It is falling and crashing and floating into blackness, back to that sacred place where there is nothing but wonderful serenity for all time.

Adoration, exultation and my Rigel, how can I ever let you go?

It feels like death, but I am not dead -- I will never be dead -- and the sweetness ends too soon as Rigel removes his teeth from my flesh. He is apologetic already, cursing himself for his greed and I want to weep at the unfairness of it all.

If I am to be cursed with eternity, why can I not have it with the one I will always love?

Death or life, what does it matter to me? All is the same, except for the joy of Rigel at my side.

I don't want him whispering sad apologies in my ear. I don't want to dread the coming sunset, where all vampires are born again. I don't want to regret that I hadn't died the moment Viktor sank his teeth into my neck, bearing me unto eternal life, a gift greater than my own dear mortal mother granted unto me all those centuries ago.

I want to live. Live with Rigel, wherever chance may bring us, without sorrow or fear.

But the dawn is coming. I can feel its burning fingers reaching toward my flesh ... my soul.. Rigel is already carrying me toward the coffin that sits in the corner of my chamber and I no longer have the strength to protest his actions.

Please let me die in the sunlight, I want to tell Rigel, but I can't form the words. He kisses me before closing the lid and no longer am I glad that my coffin is merely a bed, not a tomb.

For when I wake up, I'll be in a tomb of no return. A tomb of life, always without him, accepting the things I cannot change, trying desperately to find the courage to change what I can, struggling for the wisdom to know the difference ...

Truly damned, forever and ever, amen.

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tbc ...

This story is finished, I just have to upload the rest. All reviews are appreciated. Thanks!


	8. Oversight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nathaniel's POV_

_Nathaniel's POV_

_0000000  
_

Nightfall comes and upon rising, I find many of my physical aches lessened to the point of comfort, if not normalcy. Perhaps not surprising, as a night with Rigel is better than a hundred transfusions, even if it was our last one together for a while.

Yes, a while. Because Rigel told me I must have faith, so I suppose that's what I must to.

For however long I need to.

One night is better than nothing I think morosely, reminding myself I didn't expect to get even that much. I didn't expect to survive the Lycan attack either. Part of me hopes I didn't make too much of a fool of myself with my shameless begging --vampires are supposed to be cold and stoic and all that -- but I think he understood how hard it was to get him back for one shining moment then be forced to let him go again.

Besides, he's read my journal. How much more embarrassing can my shamelessness get?

Outside, the moon is waning and I wonder dully if the coven's train has left the station yet. I wonder if it would be worth it to go down there, to say a proper good-bye, but in truth, there's nothing left to say. I said everything with my body -- my soul -- last night, as did Rigel.

We understand one another now, more than we have in the six centuries we've been dancing around each other's hearts.

We are one, nothing can change that, not separation, not even death.

Words are pointless now.

Resigned, I dress myself and head out of my chamber. The castle is so quiet, I can hear my own footfalls through the corridors. There is no sign of Ordoghaz anywhere ... the death dealers, the healers, they must have packed last night and left moments after sunset.

Nothing remains of their presence except a cooling unit filled with blood the healers graciously left behind for me in the infirmary. I no longer feel any desperate need for it, so sharing them with the rest of the coven might be a better plan.

They could use some decent blood after the past few nights of misery.

Shamefully, I realize that besides Artemis, I have no idea which of my brethren survived the battle and who did not. Seeking them out, I eventually find a knot of them in the drawing room, gathered around the new wonder of the coven house ... a working cellular phone, lying on the dining table.

They look terrified of it and a wash of pity overcomes me. "Brothers ... sisters ..." I greet them. They turn to me, every one of them looking scarred and battle-weary. They've done well but they don't need me to tell them that. They're alive to tell the tale themselves. "How goes it with our house?"

"We lost Artemis," says Louis, a three-hundred year old with the greenest eyes I've ever seen. "And Nadia as well."

"I knew about Artemis, I did not know about Nadia," I say, reaching out to clasp his arm. Nadia was his soul companion, as Rigel is to me. She was rumored to be pregnant, but now, we'll never know. "I'm sorry, Louis. This is a terrible loss to all of us, but to you especially, I know."

Averting his eyes, Louis doesn't reply.

"Lady Erika has left with the rest of Ordoghaz," murmurs Finola, a young female. She looks heartbroken, not surprising as she'd been spending her evenings sharing Erika's coffin when Erika was in the mood for company. "They departed so quickly, it was as if they were never here."

"They were kind enough to come at all," I remind them, but the mood is as gloomy as I've ever seen it. They look like children who've lost their only parent and so they have, for they have had no one but Artemis to be a father to them for their entire centuries-long lives.

I'm almost ashamed to mingle my loss in with theirs as our hearts lie in different realms -- them with the trials of Sigisoara, while mine stays always in Ordoghaz with Rigel.

"I suppose you are also unaware that Artemis named you temporary Overseer here in case of his death until Kraven appoints a permanent one," says Louis sourly, still not looking at me. "Since that death has come to pass ..."

Ah. Here is the source of some trouble. "I did not know this," I reply carefully. "But as Lord Artemis wishes, as does my Lord Kraven, I will obey."

"Indeed, I supposed you would," replies Louis, his voice nearly as cold as the winds that blow through the surrounding forests. "There was some argument over it. Some among us wonder why we must be ruled by an outsider even if he is a famous death dealer who can single-handed kill a pack of Lycans and save us all." Sarcastically, and I definitely smell a fight brewing in the air. "All of us except a few inconvenient ones, that is."

His insinuation isn't lost on me. Nadia, as the eldest of the coven after Artemis, would naturally have been in line for Overseer, under normal circumstances.

But these aren't normal circumstances and Louis' accusation would be an unacceptable one under any conditions. It is the insinuation of a conspiracy on my part to usurp the coven's natural order -- one of the greatest crimes a vampire could commit, if not the greatest.

It is also a direct challenge to my newfound authority. Ironically, overseeing Sigisoara, even temporarily, is a position I couldn't care less about having but duty now requires I assert myself and do it immediately lest I lose the coven's respect -- a death sentence for any Elder, Regent or Overseer alike.

I push myself up to Louis until we are almost touching. "You speak carelessly, Vampyre." Formal title, to let him know I mean business. "Grief has disordered your mind"

Eyes burning, Louis refuses to back down. "My mind has never been clearer," he growls, as the gathered coven takes a quick step back. "You are but an interloper who has caused us nothing but trouble. Ambitious and conniving-- why, I wouldn't be surprised if this Lycan 'attack' was some ruse of yours to ..."

He is down on the floor before the last words leave his mouth and I hold him there, my fangs sharp against his throat.

Louis struggles only for a moment. I wait until he is still to say: "I will not assist you in committing suicide, Vampyre." Very softly against his racing pulse, making sure he hears me. "If you wish for death, seek it yourself and be quick about it, for there are worse things I'm willing to do other than kill you. Insult me so again and you'll be left only wishing for death."

Leaving Louis to stare at me balefully from the floor, I rise, wiping my hands on my pants in disgust. "Go outside and bury yourself there until you are sent for," I order him. "I have no wish to sleep beneath the same roof as you."

Sullenly, Louis obeys but not before I hold my hand out to him, palm down in a demand for obeisance. Lips twitching with rage, he kisses my fingers before storming from the room, leaving the great oak doors wide open in his wake.

I suppose that's good enough for now, at least until the real Overseer gets here. A week or so in the cold ground should straighten him out.

I hope.

"Enough of this unpleasantness, brethren. All of us are grieved and weary," I say to the other coven members who are fidgeting nervously in the shadows. "There's fresh blood left for us by our good Lord Kraven. Let us drink and soothe away some of our hunger and troubles."

Silent glances are exchanged between them, until Finola timidly steps forward. "My Lord Nathaniel ..."

I stop her. "Just Nathaniel, please."

"Nathaniel." Shyly. "You don't think you could show us how to use that machine on the table, do you? Erika said that I might be able to speak to her on it, all the way from here." Blushing, she digs her toe into the threadbare carpet. "Only if you have the time and inclination, my Lor ... um ... Nathaniel."

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "I will teach you, sister. I'll teach all of you, anything you wish to know of the modern age. There is much out there you don't know about, my friends. So come, follow me and I will do my best to show you this new world of ours."

This seems to cheer them a little. One by one, they step forward, into the light.

Finola looks positively delighted. "Thank you so much. Erika told me I must find a way to tell her what everyone is doing here and this will help me out quite a bit. She wants me to "give her all the dirt." A confused pause. "You don't think she means real dirt, do you, Nathaniel? Oh, dear. Can we send dirt over the machine?"

I sigh. "No, but we can mail her some. In fact, I think that's exactly what we're going to do. You gather it, I'll pack it and mail it directly to her. How's that?"

A little clap of Finola's hands. "Oh, yes, thank you! She'll certainly be pleased, don't you think?"

"One can only hope," I reply, ushering her and the rest of the coven down the hall and into what is, literally, for them at least, the great beyond.

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Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	9. Gathering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Golden October Declining

"Golden October Declining

Chapter IX: Gathered"

by ingrid

~*~

The lonely months pass quickly into summer which is beautiful out here in the deep country. The nights are warm and welcoming with little bright insects flickering in and out of the moonlight.

Often, I take a lonesome walk through the dark mesh of wilderness, breathing in the wild scent of the air, thankfully, Lycan-free, trying to keep faith -- mine and Rigel's -- alive in my mind and heart.

Often though, bitterness festers instead, as I wonder again why a lowly mortal is freer in many ways than myself, a predatory creature powerful enough to mock death itself.

They can come and go as they like for the most part, their overlords are little involved in their day to day lives. They trade a long length of life for a short burst of freedom and I wonder if I'd make that trade myself, if I could ... if it meant that Rigel and I could leave this restrictive society for a life of our own, even only for what would be to a vampire, years turned to a few blissful moments.

Truly, I wonder.

Back at the coven house, I leave Louis in the ground for two weeks before sending for him. When he returns to us, he seems far more subdued ... humbled, even. I'm hoping it was his grief over Nadia's loss making him act so outlandishly, but my eyes are open to him every minute, just in case.

Clothing and supplies arrive on a regular basis from Ordoghaz, even some of my personal items which are addressed to me in Rigel's own hand. Books, shirts and slacks, my laptop computer -- even some extra ammunition which I've been sorely missing.

A replacement for the gun Erika took and lost arrives, as well as my cellular phone which is fully charged complete with an independent long-lasting battery pack, as electricity has yet to be installed in these ancient castle walls.

Rigel hasn't called me. I don't blame him ... what is there to say?

He told me to have faith, so that's what I'll try to do -- as difficult as it is.

I wish he would at least write to me, but ...

The temporary Overseer position keeps me busy, as does trying to assimilate the coven to modern times. I attempt to explain how things are at first and when that doesn't work I decide a trip to town would be better than descriptions, so they can see things for themselves.

A bit of a mistake, I'm afraid. The profusion of electric lights, screeching automobiles and loud mortals dressed in strange clothing terrify most coven members so badly they hide in the forest until I come to fetch them.

Only Louis seems completely unafraid, as well as honestly intrigued. He asks me dozens of questions, all of which I answer as honestly as I can, hoping to gain his trust. He's particularly interested in our modern weapons, noting that becoming a working death dealer of this age would be the best way to avenge his Nadia.

I promise to teach him and for a moment, he almost seems grateful.

But there is still something about him that rankles me, so, on occasion, I word my lessons carefully.

Louis also asks me many questions about mortals, many of them I find I can't answer. The detailed workings of their society, especially here in Romania. This I'm not very sure about, but I offer him the use of my wireless laptop so he can look it up himself.

He learns the machine with great speed, faster than I ever did. He spends hours on it, absorbed by sites about Romanian law and rule of order.

Part of me wonders what he's on about, the other is just glad he's out of my hair.

I'm not cut out for a leadership position, I fear. It simply doesn't interest me, this molding of a coven's existence. I am a soldier at heart and I find myself ever longing for the nights spent death dealing in Budapest, guns firing in the back alleyways, hunting and killing with Rigel by my side.

I'm more lonely now than ever, even within my own skin. Standing above even the members of this coven, I am on my own and I can't help but wonder what Artemis was thinking making me Overseer here.

I don't want to do this anymore. I just ... don't want to.

~*~

As typical with the political intrigue surrounding the choosing a coven Overseer, we hear little from Kraven until the formal announcement arrives by courier, on the first day of fall. It's only a vague pronouncement, something to the effect of the new Overseer's arrival on such and such a date -- basically warning us to be ready for a large reception for whomever it is receiving the title.

This is the second highest event after an Awakening so I try to make sure as much is ready as possible for the momentous occasion.

All of Ordoghaz will likely be in attendance -- perhaps some of Amelia's cronies as well, if the Overseer has been chosen from the New World Coven, as unlikely as that would seem at first glance. Except that Amelia is most powerful and many of her right-hand men are ambitious enough to try and turn Sigisoara into their own private fiefdom of the East.

Not that I think Kraven would allow that, but he's no Viktor, so anything can happen.

I don't particularly care who takes over from me. The sooner the Great Whosit gets here, the sooner I can consider my options of leaving this place behind.

Going rogue, at least temporarily, is appealing to me more and more every day, especially since the coven is finally settling into the modern world with less fear.

I owed them that much, a life brought up to date but past that ... I need to seek my own path, at least until the day comes that Rigel and I can work through the miasma of pointless mores and ancient rules that plague our kind.

They say turning rogue is forever, but as I've discovered, nothing is forever.

Besides, I was never much for rules -- I suppose this has always been my fatal flaw.

As the great night grows closer, I'm not nervous, but the coven ... oh, the coven is in a frenzy. Fussing and dressing and cleaning and redecorating and redecorating again.

This is possibly the biggest thing that's happened to any of them, ever.

I, on the other hand, spend most of my time trying not to trip over chairs that weren't there the night before and ordering the females not to worry themselves bald.

Finally ... thankfully ... the night is here. We stand, gathered in the dining hall, dressed to the nines, everyone except myself sweating blood.

I put on my formal clothes for this event, standing at the coven's head in my only good suit. It's the usual cross between a nineteenth century lounging jacket and modern 'gothic' apparel, which seems to have no particular age. It's hot and constricting and it's only the gravity of the situation that keeps me from throwing myself into the castle's stagnant back moat to cool off.

The official courier arrives, making his announcement, followed by the formal bodyguard, death dealers all.

After that, in slink the women of Ordoghaz, so beautifully attired, they take even my jaded breath away. Selene in particular looks impressive in shimmering black beads strung up her slim neck like a spider's web as reams of ebony silk cover her artfully from bosom to the tops of delicate high-heeled shoes.

Not to be outdone, Erika is dressed in blood red satin and long matching gloves, standing out like a poppy in a sea of ash.

Kraven comes in next, through the middle of the females. He looks both bored and annoyed, which is a perpetual look for him these days. A seat is brought forward immediately and he plops down into it, waving forward the rest of his coven.

I don't see any of Amelia's henchmen anywhere among them and this is a good sign. Part of me dreaded having Dmitri or Rafael at our helm, infecting these innocent vampires with their decadent ways.

Not to mention having to follow the orders of either one of those gasbags.

"Nathaniel," Kraven calls, catching my wandering attention. "I bring to you the true Overseer of Sigisoara. Stand down and make way or else be unseated by force."

Stand down, indeed. I am more than ready for this moment, to shed a false mantle and eventually leave this unhappy place, before I lose all my faith in my own existence.

"My Lord," I reply dutifully, with a deep bow. "They are more than welcome to this seat, which has waited for them since the passing of Artemis, true Lord of this house. They will have no resistance from me or anyone here."

A short waggle of Kraven's hand at this response and a male figure emerges from the back of the room, dressed in immaculate black velvet, wearing the blood-red garnet signet ring of Sigisoara and for the love of Darkness, I don't think I can believe my eyes.

It is Rigel.

And for the first time in my very long life, I am struck speechless.

Rigel advances and kisses me softly on both cheeks. "Thank you for your gracious speech." He gives me a meaningful look. "I accept this seat of Overseer of Sigisoara, which is mine rightfully, until said otherwise by my betters."

He kisses me again, this time on the lips and both covens applaud.

"I told you to have a little faith in us, my only one," he whispers in my ear, so low only I can hear as all around us, vampires clap. "For faith as ever shall save our lost souls."

I can do little else but stare, openmouthed and wondering at the miracle that has happened to me ...

On a night I least expected it to.

~*~

In all my many years of knowing him, I don't think I've ever seen such a look of astonishment on Nathaniel's face as I do when I step forward to claim my seat as Overseer of Sigisoara.

The surprise melts away and changes into a look of happiness that is well worth all the trouble it took to get here since my journey to this point was anything but smooth.

I thought it would be simple once I found my old sword still in the castle's keep and remembered the details of the great battle after which I bestowed it upon Lord Artemis. It was on the bloody plains of Vitric where hundreds of Lycans were threatening close to his coven house and I had a lucky evening that battle, slaying many of them single-handedly.

Artemis was grateful to me, grateful enough not only to enshrine my sword in the castle but also to confer upon me the honor of heir to his seat should he die -- an offer which he had inscribed on the blade itself, nearly six hundred years ago in my native tongue, a very rare dialect of ancient German, which to the untrained eye looked nothing more than a series of Gothic scrawls.

_"The Sword of His Lordship, the Count Von Rigel, Savior and Crown Overseer of Sigisoara, A. Rex"._

Since most vampires don't die that readily the inheritance was more honorary than anything else, but nonetheless, such offers are binding should the death come to pass. I'd never thought twice about it afterward, indeed I'd forgotten the offer completely until I wiped the most recent bit of Lycan blood from the blade and saw the words, engraved in the silver.

It's a good thing I'd bothered to teach myself the old tongue during my reading lessons.

Upon my arrival back at Ordoghaz, I went to Kraven immediately to stake my claim but he wasn't ready to give such a plum job to someone who couldn't be a more powerful ally to him than a simple death dealer as myself.

I presented the sword, showed him the words written there and had the translation verified, but he dismissed my assertion outright, claiming that contracts written after the passion of battle are meaningless.

I was so annoyed I almost lopped his head off right there and then, but prudence stayed my hand, thank Darkness.

Grieving and furious, I swore to abandon the coven and take off with Nathaniel alone but Selene, as usual, had a wiser idea.

A fortnight later, she went over Kraven's head and directly petitioned Lady Amelia -- not for me -- but for herself as the new Overseer of Sigisoara.

This was a brilliant move. Amelia was more than happy to bestow the seat upon Selene for that would both curry future favor with Viktor and silence those in her inner circle who were vying for the job. A powerful male who would be lost as her minion -- perhaps becoming dangerous in their own right once they took over the Eastern coven, so far away, out of her control.

As for the ambitions of Amelia's men -- Dmitri and Rafael might have been able to argue about my taking over of the seat, but of Viktor's favorite, Selene?

They became conspicuously silent.

Oh, but Kraven. What a fury he was in once Selene came to him and told him of Amelia's pronouncement of Selene's ascension to the Eastern Seat. She would be gone for years and years, out of Kraven's sight and Selene relished poking him with this fact every chance she got.

Finally, one evening toward the end of summer, he called both Selene and myself to his private chambers. "What will persuade you to renounce this madness?" Kraven asked Selene, his teeth grinding so hard together, I feared his jaw would crack. "Tell me what you want so we can end this charade."

"Give Rigel what you and I both know is rightfully his," she replied curtly.

"Fine," he growled. "But there will be conditions."

Selene was about to argue, but I stopped her, since I had an idea of what they might be. "Name them, my Lord," I said.

"Once the coven is fully assimilated to this era and the males trained to defend themselves properly, I want to merge the two houses - Sigisoara with Ordoghaz. It is too expensive for us to run a tiny coven at such great cost. There is no need for it beyond tradition and as we've seen recently, too much adherence to tradition can be a dangerous thing."

"Done," I replied immediately. "Once the coven is properly prepared, we will migrate here to be as one."

"You will have to give up the seat and all claims to Overseership once this happens," Kraven cautioned

"Gladly, my Lord, for while I must do my duty to Sigisoara, Ordoghaz is ever my home." And Nathaniel's I thought happily, as our lives were here, hunting together side by side and once the covens merge both of us will finally be home -- together. "My ambitions, in truth, are no more than serving as a death dealer to my house of birth."

Kraven seemed appeased by my easy acquiesce. "Then I suppose this has worked out for the best," he said, with an actual smile. "Congratulations, Lord Overseer of Sigisoara. May you enjoy your rule until our merging." He took a gold box out of his pocket and handed it to me. "This is your signet ring. Wear it well and remember the previous owner's fate, taking care that it will not be yours."

I bowed to Kraven, so happy, I thought my heart would burst. I felt very badly that Nathaniel was still in the dark perhaps thinking I'd abandoned him, but the joy he'd feel upon finding out the truth would make everything worthwhile.

Or so I fervently hoped.

"Now we must be quick, before Dmitri gets wind of this and protests," Kraven said. Petulantly, he addressed Selene. "You're going to get me in trouble with Amelia, you know."

She shrugged. It was obvious she couldn't care less. "I'm sure gaining control over an extra coven will make your troubles with her well worth it."

"Let us hope," he snorted, waving his hand at us dismissively. "Go, get yourselves ready for we travel to Sigisoara in two days time. Oh, and Rigel?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I'm giving you three years to get the job done. Try not to spend every moment shagging Nathaniel," he smirked. "All right?"

I didn't answer him. It's only lucky I didn't have my sword with me because this time I would have certainly chopped his head off.

~*~

The ride to Sigisoara was long and nerve-wracking. All sorts of doubts plagued me. Not about ruling the coven -- as a mortal I ruled over a fiefdom ten times as large -- but that Nathaniel might be so angry at me for leaving and not communicating with him my plans that he'd spurn me and leave before I could explain.

Or that perhaps he'd grown weary of waiting and left already. Not that he would be one to easily abandon his duty -- part of me wonders if Artemis had purposely named him temporary Overseer to keep him from going rogue, for Artemis was ever wise that way -- but he was so sorrowful and sick the last night we'd spent together, anything could have transpired.

So worried was I that I barely paid attention to any of the pomp and circumstance surrounding the affair, spending every second waiting to see if Nathaniel were all right and if he'd be indulgent with me one last time.

When I was called forward at long last and saw the wondrous expression on Nat's face -- so full of joyous surprise -- all my fears died.

Kissing him at this moment is so sweet, I wish I could forgo the rest of the ceremony to be alone with him but that wouldn't go over very well. So I sit through the entire ordeal patiently, happily even, with Nathaniel at my right hand introducing me to my new subjects -- the sweet, shy females as well as the courteous, grave male vampires of Sigisoara who gracefully kneel and swear allegiance to me, one by one.

In a way I almost regret my promise to Kraven to bring these uncorrupted ones to Ordoghaz when all is said and done. Such old-fashioned manners are long gone from our halls and once they leave here, our world will be worse off for it.

But it will be best for them to no longer live in the past. Safer too for all of us, not to mention the three blessed years I'll be able to spend with Nathaniel at my side in this faraway haven without Kraven's whims and Ordoghaz's annoyances to bother us.

The ceremony goes long into the night and when the last glass of blood is poured, I rise to formally address both houses, holding Nat's trembling hand in mine. "Peace once again is with us, brothers and sisters. Why is this?"

"Because of The Chain," they answer dutifully, in the ancient words of our only religion, the Immortal Chain of the Command.

"That's right," I say. "Our Blessed Elders in their eternal wisdom have created ways of granting simple transitions of power that are denied to mortals, who live their short lives in war and strife, unlike us, who own both the blessings of immortality and peace. Let us drink our last drops to them, bestowing on them the honor they deserve. To the Elders!"

"To the Elders!" they cry, draining their glasses, Nathaniel and I along with them.

"To Sigisoara Eternal," adds a vampire, one named Louis, who has been sending steely-eyed glares at both Nat and myself all evening long. "Forever may she stand, coven of our hearts."

There's a moment of confusion and embarrassment, as members of both covens aren't quite sure how to respond without insulting either Ordoghaz or the East.

"Indeed," I say, meeting Louis' hard gaze directly. "For then she can forever be friend, sister and mate to beloved Ordoghaz. To Sigisoara Eternal!"

Relieved, everyone raises their empty glasses in salute and thank Darkness, I can feel the dawn approach. "Let us take our rest now, friends. Tomorrow eve we part but with joy in our hearts at the good fortune this night has brought all of us. Good Eve."

"Good Eve," everyone replies and the covens disperse, my new brethren leading our guests to chambers I know are specially prepared for them.

I'm not sure where I'm intended to sleep, but that doesn't matter. I gently wave off my personal servant, a pretty little female named Finola and tighten my grip on Nathaniel's fingers. "Is there room in that coffin of yours for one more?"

"Always," he replies, his voice hoarse with emotion. "If you don't mind a slow awakening. For I think that tomorrow night I might not feel like opening the lid for a very long time."

"That's fine with me, for I have a feeling I'll be particularly inclined to rest tomorrow night as well," I whisper, brushing my lips against his ear, enjoying the shiver that runs through him. "This Overseer business is already hard work."

Slowly, we walk hand-in-hand to his chamber. "You're going to tell me how in Hells you pulled this off, right?" Nat asks, climbing into his thankfully large coffin and pulling me in beside him.

"Perhaps," I tease, settling gratefully into his warm embrace. "Or maybe I'll simply make you my bedslave and keep you occupied as such, as a good Overlord should."

Nat thinks for a moment before lowering the lid against the sun. "That would suit me quite well, my Lord." A soft kiss to my lips before the dying time overtakes us. "Quite well indeed."

~*~

I normally don't let others sleep in my coffin with me, but Rigel, as always, is an exception to the rule.

Besides, how sweet it is to wake up and feel him against me, so wonderfully warm, fitting in my arms like a missing puzzle piece. He's a nuzzler too, his nose tickling against my neck and I chuckle, finding his smooth forehead to kiss in the darkness.

Soon my kiss travels down to Rigel's cheek, his jaw, then his lips and I have to be careful not to tip the box over as I roll atop him, wanting more. So very much more.

His breathless laughter echoes in our confined space. "Nat, there are whole bedrooms for this. Come, we are not fledglings on a field trip now, are we?"

I kiss him more deeply, enjoying his muffled protests, followed by passionate moans. "Those fledglings are smarter than we think."

Eventually, Rigel breaks away from the awkward embrace and fumbles for the coffin lid. Upon pushing it open, he looks down affectionately at me. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"That's how you like me," I reply, stretching out my cramped arms and watching as Rigel lights a gas lamp.

The room floods with light and I can barely stand to look at him, so beautiful is he, still in his velvet finery yet deliciously rumpled and debauched-looking at the same time.

The blood in me stirs hotly and it takes all the restraint I own not to leap on him and take him where he stands, especially when he starts shucking his clothes off, in search of something more comfortable.

"Remind me to never sleep in that stuff again," he complains. "Most uncomfortable. In fact, remind me to never wear anything like it again."

"I prefer you without clothes entirely," I reply slyly. "It's a wonderful look for you."

"Incorrigible," he repeats, but his eyes are filled with affection. "So, do you want to hear the story of my great rise from a slogging Death Dealer to royal Overseer?"

"You tricked Kraven into it?" I guess, as I've had an entire night to think about how it could have happened. "And Selene helped you?"

He looks puzzled. "Why, yes. Did someone else tell you?"

"No," I laugh at his adorably befuddled expression. "I'm just intimately familiar how that loving, but devious, mind of yours works. As for Selene, I don't think she's yet met an opportunity to annoy Kraven that she hasn't taken full advantage of."

"Perhaps we have been together too long," he muses, pulling a light shirt over his head. "Once all the surprise leaves a relationship ..."

Putting a hand on his arm, I stop him mid-dress and search his bright blue eyes. "Don't say that," I beg quietly. "Eternity itself isn't long enough for us to be together. As for surprises, I can live without them for a little while, can't you?"

The shirt drops out of Rigel's hand. A second later he's wrapped completely in my arms, kissing me breathless. My clothes follow Rigel's onto the floor and I find myself backed onto the couch in my chamber where we spent the one night together I thought would be our last.

Not so tonight, for this is only the first of many evenings together. I bare my neck to him with all the submissiveness I can summon and thrill at his hiss of satisfaction as he sinks his fangs in deeply, drinking what, in truth, belongs to him -- my body, my blood, my life.

The pleasure is dizzying, so much so that when he lowers himself to take me in his mouth, I can do nothing but close my eyes against the bright sparks of pleasure our mortal mating engenders. I am coming as a mortal might, lost in the ecstasy of his closeness, the heat of his mouth and demands of his touch.

Possessive and perfect is my Rigel, my new Lord and Master and I can't help but smile when he comes to rest his head against my chest, both of us breathing hard. "Your bedslave has a request, my Lord," I whisper to him.

Amusingly, I can feel his eyes rolling. "You're a silly creature, Nat." He lifts his head to smile at me. "So, what is this request?"

"I wish to be chained here, if that's all right with you. Just so I can better be at your disposal."

He snorts, before lowering his head and chuckling warmly. "I'd prefer to be chained here myself, but there is much work to be done. I've heard dreadful things about the training that's been going on in this place over the past year. A certain death dealer has been quite lenient with these soldiers, much to their detriment. Many stories have reached my ears from a certain someone about the sweet demeanor of my predecessor, whom it seems doesn't know that training death dealers and Overseering is a job for the cruel and relentless among us."

Heat fills my cheeks. "I hate Erika," I mumble. "I really do."

Rigel laughs heartily. "She likes you well enough. I've also endured quite a few lectures from her on what a catch you are and what a ... ach, what's the phrase she used again? Oh, yes ... 'bad boyfriend' ... I am. She's very passionate on the subject. She waggled her finger at me with great vehemence at least once a day over it."

"Didn't I request that you kill her, somewhere in that journal of mine?"

"You did, but it's hard to kill someone who is so fond of the one I love," he replies, placing a kiss over my heart. "I did consider it once or twice, if that's any consolation."

"None at all," I reply, before raising him to kiss again. "My only consolation is that you will have three years to make it up to me, at the very least.'

"At the very least," he agrees and melts into my embrace, as the stars gather and the future stretches out before us like a sunset reaching for the last pieces of sky.

~*~

THE END

Author's Notes: This has been a labor of love for me, with an extremely rare pairing in a tiny fandom. It's also been a great pleasure to write, as I've had some fabulous readers who've been faithful and wonderful with their comments, suggestions and critiques each chapter. A huge thanks goes to all of you, as you were my inspiration, friends and playmates all through this. I know I say I've appreciated your comments as I've posted this, but trust me when I say that statement comes from the heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: This has been a labor of love for me, with an extremely rare pairing in a tiny fandom. It's also been a great pleasure to write, as I've had some fabulous readers who've been faithful and wonderful with their comments, suggestions and critiques each chapter. A huge thanks goes to all of you, as you were my inspiration, friends and playmates all through this. I know I say I've appreciated your comments as I've posted this, but trust me when I say that statement comes from the heart.


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